The ladder slipped backwards while I was elevated about 20 feet. The top of the ladder slid straight down the house and I landed on the ground, straddling the rungs. Only minor damage to the window frame and some paint spill on the house. I was perfectly fine.

Adrenaline injected through my nerves and affected me almost like a drug--for a moment, all I could do was stand looking at the fallen ladder as others came to my aid. They were sure I was hurt, despite my contention that I was absolutely fine. They disagreed, and told me to walk around and see.

The feeling conformed in every detail to how one feels after an auto accident. Shocked, in disbelief, intense, relieved, amazed, anxious and high.

The sensation of falling was enjoyable enough that I feel as though the price was well worth the raw emotion and consequences(some wasted paint, embarassment[only minor], and fear).

I've never been able to find, ultimately, any definitive meaning in life, and therefore unable to justify why anyone should continue living. For the same reasons (or lack) that I cannot justify living, nor can I justify suicide. Alas, ineluctably, I must one day die, and because it was so intense and enjoyable, I've resolved that next time I experience such a glorious fall, I would like to expire upon landing.

Of course, I do not intend to fall off of a ladder ever again.