Sometimes I wonder what dying feels like. Not what comes after it, necessarily. I don't really think there's anything after it. When you die, you die. You're done. It's over. You get a one life, and then--
Nothing.
But in the moments before that nothing...
What are you feeling? Do you know what's coming? Can you sense that this is the last experience...
What am I saying? God, god, god, I don't know. I don't know how to organize these thoughts into sentences, into groups of words and phrases that are as clear and concise as they seem in my head. I don't know. I don't know anything.
Who does, though? Does anyone really know anything at all? Can anyone on this godforsaken planet state something with absolute confidence...absolute confidence...absolute...
They're not making sense again. I know exactly what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling, but I don't know how to explain...no, it's not that I don't know how, it's that I can't. I can't do it. I can't ask all the things I'm wondering and I can't describe to you the colors and words and emotions and displaced fears and courage that's all tangled up in my mind because I'm nothing but a tornado of doubt and anxiety and...and...I don't know. I don't even know what I am, do you understand that? Because I don't know anything, anything, anything, and neither does anybody else and we're all just existing and bending and loving in the blink of an eye and none of it matters. Why would it matter?
It doesn't. It doesn't matter. Because all we are in the end...
is nothing.
That's all we really know, I guess, is that this life, this existence...ends.
It's only 10:41pm. And I'm exhausted.
