| Monday, June 13, 2011
it's not so much the dying,
but what comes afterwards.
have you forgotten the strange void that comes when your small child came in contact with too hot water?
or when sitting in the backseat of a car driving down a dark road?
this void, she used to wonder.
was that what death was? emptiness, this lack of consciousness, just gone.
so that was when the fear of death started.
she didn't want to die then, because it meant that she would miss so many things, the lovely exciting things you see everyday in this special world.
but now, now it's all different, is it not?
she frequently wonders whether or not it would be nice to just forget to wake up the next day, or when she woke up only the soul did but not the body?
the fear still remains, primal and gripping sometimes,
but really she was too tired to care.
now she cares not about what she would miss,
near drowning in the fantasies and daydreams she concocts every day every night to escape.
impossible to fully withdraw, but once, just once,
she would like to try.
to half die, perhaps or fully die.
she used to wonder who would care, but really she has now passed that point.
who cares who would care?
she doesn't care about others, why should anyone care about her?
so now you see the point.
detached from life, there but yet not there, where is the difference?
the purple piggy oinked 5:48 AM
