D
DoomCry
Member
- Mar 5, 2025
- 52
In spaces where end-of-life issues are discussed seriously, firearms are often described as the most lethal method.
And statistically, that's true.
But over time, even this method has become hollow.
Not because of lack of power, but because of the informational darkness that surrounds it.
"Just aim well."
"The angle is what matters."
"Aim for the brainstem."
These phrases are repeated like magic formulas.
But they explain nothing.
They don't clarify.
They don't reassure.
If anything, they create more doubt.
What does aiming well even mean?
How important is position? Caliber? Recoil? Muscle tension at the moment of the shot?
What exactly is the right angle? And what if you're off by three degrees?
The answer: no one really knows.
Or if they do, they won't say.
And so even the "most lethal" method becomes a mental maze, filled with uncertainty, isolation, and fear.
Even "aim for the brainstem" sounds hollow.
It's deep, small, protected…
And even if you do aim well, who guarantees it's the right shot?
Then comes the most absurd claim:
> "You need to be familiar with firearms."
As if you needed a degree in ballistics to pull a trigger.
As if suicide were some advanced discipline to master over years.
And yet?
We read about twelve-year-olds shooting themselves with their father's gun and dying instantly, without knowing how to hold it.
And trained veterans who shoot themselves in the head…
and survive, blind, paralyzed, with irreversible neurological damage.
So, which is it? Do you need experience… or not?
Is it foolproof… or not?
The truth is that these contradictions only create fear.
And fear paralyzes any decision.
Here lies the paradox:
the firearm is the most lethal method, yet it's also the most unclear, obscured, distorted.
And those seeking clarity find themselves surrounded by empty phrases, half-truths, and silence.
Eventually, anyone who reflects too long on this ends up thinking:
> "You know what? Better a train at 270 km/h. At least there, no one talks to me about angles."
This isn't about glorifying any method.
It's about transparency.
About clarity of information.
And how, in certain spaces, even that is withheld.
Not out of cruelty.
But out of collective fear.
Self-censorship.
A terror of saying too much…
that ultimately becomes saying nothing at all.
And statistically, that's true.
But over time, even this method has become hollow.
Not because of lack of power, but because of the informational darkness that surrounds it.
"Just aim well."
"The angle is what matters."
"Aim for the brainstem."
These phrases are repeated like magic formulas.
But they explain nothing.
They don't clarify.
They don't reassure.
If anything, they create more doubt.
What does aiming well even mean?
How important is position? Caliber? Recoil? Muscle tension at the moment of the shot?
What exactly is the right angle? And what if you're off by three degrees?
The answer: no one really knows.
Or if they do, they won't say.
And so even the "most lethal" method becomes a mental maze, filled with uncertainty, isolation, and fear.
Even "aim for the brainstem" sounds hollow.
It's deep, small, protected…
And even if you do aim well, who guarantees it's the right shot?
Then comes the most absurd claim:
> "You need to be familiar with firearms."
As if you needed a degree in ballistics to pull a trigger.
As if suicide were some advanced discipline to master over years.
And yet?
We read about twelve-year-olds shooting themselves with their father's gun and dying instantly, without knowing how to hold it.
And trained veterans who shoot themselves in the head…
and survive, blind, paralyzed, with irreversible neurological damage.
So, which is it? Do you need experience… or not?
Is it foolproof… or not?
The truth is that these contradictions only create fear.
And fear paralyzes any decision.
Here lies the paradox:
the firearm is the most lethal method, yet it's also the most unclear, obscured, distorted.
And those seeking clarity find themselves surrounded by empty phrases, half-truths, and silence.
Eventually, anyone who reflects too long on this ends up thinking:
> "You know what? Better a train at 270 km/h. At least there, no one talks to me about angles."
This isn't about glorifying any method.
It's about transparency.
About clarity of information.
And how, in certain spaces, even that is withheld.
Not out of cruelty.
But out of collective fear.
Self-censorship.
A terror of saying too much…
that ultimately becomes saying nothing at all.