I’m glad…
…I don’t have a gun. Only a handful of times in my life have I ever been so angry towards a person that I would consider shooting them.
On the other hand, there have been countless times where (had I easy access to a gun) I would’ve given myself an extra earhole where my temple currently resides.
I don’t see how any intelligent person could own a firearm without at least being tempted to off themselves.
There has to come a time when life just gets too overwhelming. When there’s so much to keep track off. Where everywhere you turn is just some person or corporation leeching off of you, bleeding you dry for every ounce of value, creativity, optimism and decency you have. When the peacefulness of a careless silence becomes preferable to the chaotic static that is life. Everyone has to feel like that at some point. I don’t see how one can not.
Then again, if I were right, no one would own guns. Not out of a strict sense of pacifism or extreme high regard for human life (or life in general), but because of the fear that during one neurotic, delusional, anxiety-filled episode; one might make the mistake that you’ll never get a chance to regret.
