People talk about slow and painful deaths and then the quick ones that get over soon without too much pain. What is that supposed to mean? Life is a slow and painful death in itself. Every day along the way we’re edging closer to the final day that is death but we’re not quite there if we’re still alive, are we? We still have to take the blows every day has to deal out to us, we still have to go through all the little hurts and pains. The journey from the beginning to the end is slow and painful. It always is.
Who am I talk though? Am I not extinguished already? Inside, it’s already gone. And if life is extinguished within then I am just a living dead, a zombie yet not a zombie. I am hanging by a fragile thread but I am hanging on. Fair or not, but I’ll have to die twice over in one lifetime. Or maybe even more times than that.
What can I do about it? I don’t control many of the things life chooses to fling into my face. Bring it on.