I am going to die. When I was young, I knew that everyone else was going to die, but I always thought I'd survive death. I used to believe that Death's grip was only long enough to reach at me and never quite touch. I would praise my immortality, but as I grew older I became more aware of how mortal I was. I could bleed. I could hurt. I could scar. I could freeze, burn, drown, and fall. And it never haapened how I thought it would. Just as the sting of pain dug in, I feared mortality. And immortals don't fear death. Rather, many often wish it upon themselves.

There is no doubt about it now. I will die. And I'm almost proud of that. But if I'm to die, what does it matter how I die or when? I'm sure there are more pleasant ways to go, but I'm not one for happy endings. They're great, just not for me. It's the story I care about. And no matter how the end turns out, my story is at least going to be a good one.

Comment <-- | -->

Current
Profile
E-mail
Notes
Pictures
D-land
Flashes of High School
Summer of Change
No Brass, No ammo
Lost in Translation

Last Five

And that's that.
Referenced #2
Referenced
To write them.
Heart vs mind.