I have seen my death as I have seen my life. The end has become tenable and almost heartwarming, actually invigorating.
I've begun to really start to accept what my reality is. In doing so, just as I accepted the turnout, I accept the dim out.
I want to leave loving. That can't be bad.
The tears are there but it's full of love and joy. That can't be bad.
It's deafening. All I hear is fear and anxiety filling up in my heart, in my head and in my lungs. I am drowning in them. It's a slow, menacing death sentence. How did I get to be the privileged few to receive this treatment?
Every thump of my heart is a curse prolonging the sorrow and devastation. It's deafening but outside, my ears hear nothing. Only silence.
You can run but not for long.
Eventually you'll be back and have to face your failures. You won't be escaping this one while alive.
