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Debut Albums and Higher Heart Rate

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Debut Albums and Higher Heart Rate
You never feel more alive than when you are closest to death. But is it worth it? Is the stress-filled phenomenon that is adrenalin, coming straight from the adrenal glands travelling to the heart via significantly dilated blood vessels, stimulating a higher heart rate, while triggering a release of endorphins worth the risk? Worth the ‘risk’ that will all capture us eventually but still cripples fully grown men to a riverbank of tears and a prison of hidden emotional pain? Maybe, maybe not... This was it. My long arduous journey was finally complete. Many had fallen victim to stress which in turn, made them succumb to the wily jaws of defeat. But not I. Supported by my comrades, we marched in single file to receive our prize, our medal of honour. And who better to award my prize than my coach, my best friend, my brother. A professional in the art, the best of the best and here he was. Here I am. I never thought it would happen but it did. My little brother, the nerdy kid at school who got beaten up all the time, the kid who got picked last for everything, passed the exams. Sure it took him four tries but he got there in the end. He talks so highly of himself now. I give a crummy, bite size certificate and he calls it a medal of honour. But if he wants to go skydiving then I’m not one to stop him. As my comrades and I trekked to the airstrip in the middle of some fields, a certain calmness overcame me. The sun’s becoming light and heat blankets me and Mother Nature’s work. Clearly she had spent quite a bit of time here. Blood red tulips and roses embedded themselves to the ground, covered with the greenest of green blades. Massive oak trees standing tall and mighty waved their many leaf covered arms at me as the lightest breeze brushed my face as if to say ‘howdy’. A Rainbow decided to just materialise to top it all off. By the time we get to the airstrip, the enthusiasm has seeped out of everyone except my brother. We put our equipment on, but guess who needs help with their parachute? Fitting on our equipment with ease, we clambered onto the plane to fulfil our destiny, a conquest not everyone has the chance to partake. Ears popping, short breathing, sweating and sweating. Maybe I shouldn’t have done this. But the plane doors are already open. One by one my comrades take the leap of faith until it’s just my brother and I. And I jump... Excitement, bewilderment, terror, thrill, exhaustion, ecstasy. All this I felt for so long, yet for just a split second. The experience is ineffable. The moment recedes into your brain while you can still take in the moment. It’s all so fast. You freefall and freefall and for a split second I’m suspended in mid-air. Then it’s just amazing. I’m a small butterfly daintily landing onto the ground and I... Wait. Something’s wrong. Someone keeps on falling and falling... Too much pressure. Everything is going too fast. I can’t pull my parachute. My reserve is jammed. No matter how hard I pull, I can’t open it. It’s horrible knowing that in a few seconds; my inevitable doom will strike me down and take me for who I am. 2000ft. 1500ft. 1000ft. 500ft... I see him several hundred feet below make contact with the ground again and again and again and again... In the last two decades, no soul has troubled him. Rest in peace brother.

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