Have I ever looked down the barrel of a gun before? Several times, first time I was like 12 years old. All I did was put my hands in the air and ask the cop, "what's the charge?" There was no fear, no nothing, I stood there with a blank face, with a drunk cop holding a 9mm gun and looking for "evidence."
I truly don't care about living, and if I'm put in another situation where my life is in danger and in the ends of someone else I'll tell the person to get it over with or stop wasting my time. I'm not saying I'm superman or invincible, but again, I truly don't care about living. Why should I care? I should care about my family and friends? If I don't carve my own name in history who will remember my name? No one, so I'm focused on what is here and what is now, not whatever is gonna come when I open door number 9.
And I think I said this here before, my biggest fear was not my possible death but the death of my parents. That scared the shit out of me for decades. My father just recently passed, that fear has subsided, so I thank him for what he taught me about life and death. Btw, pops was a war vet, so it's not like he didn't experience the kill or be killed situations most people will never encounter.