When I was very young I thought that if one wanted to defeat the urge to suicide all that was required was to get close enough to something. Plant your face in the earth, in the grass of a lawn, or in the grit that made up the mortar holding bricks together. It would be the experience of detail that would save you - for all that detail constituted experience of life and you wouldn't want to lose all that detail. I was naive, undoubtedly, for I never considered that all that detail could also be a reason for suicide.