At the start of my evolution or life crisis or whatever you want to call it, I made some extreme decisions. Yes, there was the drastic haircut, the career move and the change in wardrobe but nothing was more dramatic than the day I decided to jump out of a plane.
It was a Saturday morning. Me and five friends met at the small airport in Grand case, French St. Martin. I made sure to wear the proper attire and I looked the part, I guess. But what was really going through my mind was “will this look good when they pick me up in pieces in a nearby field?” I decided to go with a black ensemble. At least I’ll be wearing the correct color to my own funeral.