I feel like I have a huge ball of time, filled with sand, in my hands.
And it feels like it is slipping away from my grip, slowly, then faster - until it drops.
And just right at the moment it hits the ground I feel a huge shock in my heart, as if my heart had stopped and restarted to to beat. And right as my eyes open wide and I grasp for breath I realize... this ball, it still is in my hands.
And so I keep looking at it, until it starts to slip, and everything starts again. . .
I guess this is like a reminder of my inner mortality. It reminds me that i shouldn't be afraid of the time left for me, but I shouldn't just waste it away too... a constant feeling of fading life, and the struggle for breath.
Maybe that's what death really is, its life, only we can't see it as that.
Since I remember myself I have always been afraid of going to sleep, because i worried - what if the person who is alive now, the person I identify as myself is only alive now, this moment, this short day? And what if as I fall asleep I die, and a new version my my old memories and feelings are copied and made new? Will that still be me, or do I die right now and here and only a clone of me, a perfect copy lives on?
Live to die, die to live again, live again to die once more . . . ?
------------------
This journal is also found @ my deviant profile: http://lordmagtheridon.deviantart.com/
No comments:
Post a Comment