Answer:
He took the decision to jump off a plane at the age of 43. The thought terrified him, but it was worth the satisfaction of actually feeling like a real man. Then he went, all suited up away, the aircraft's door open throughout the entire flight. Trying hard not to gag in front of everyone until they were above the horizon, he approached the entrance.
Don't believe you're a coward! Oh, just jump! What's the worst thing that could happen? Living like this is even worse than not opening the clip, he figured. So he leaped and dropped at 120 mph into the Planet. As he slipped, he felt at ease. Frantic feelings, as one would imagine, did not cross his mind. Merely calm. His eyes overflowing with tears as he reached the ground and got up. He will never be a real guy. A long time ago, the ship sailed. To say farewell, he used a pencil. That would maybe make it less permanent. Words are only as powerful as their meaning and he didn't want to go.
So he crafted his farewell with a whisper on parchment. He made the phrases sharp. Daggers were his marks. An eraser would have made them go down. Yet he knew it wouldn't be seen by his friends. "In the first place, that's why I have to go," he thought. And he felt fixed as he made his first step into the world as an honest man. He left a message next to the television. Silicone coated, burnable. Erasable. Eliminable. Perhaps once they had done all of that, they will realize that he was just their son.
Step-by-step explanation: