This has been stalking me for years, I knew eventually I would have to confront it, but I've procrastinated and prevaricated to myself as long as I could. So many times I have lived and relived this moment in my imagination, some how I thought it would be different, peaceful. Life has brutalized me and I accept that, but somehow I thought you would be spared. How cruel fate can be, sadistically torturous, nobody is unscathed, there are no exemptions for good behaviour. Justice is a fairytale we tell ourselves to sleep at night. There is none for me, not tonight, not tomorrow.
Time is a psychotic mistress keeping me bound and awake, slowly making me relive it, opening my eyes wider with each iteration, new details flood in with each passing wave. She laughs at my naïveté, whispering truths I've manage to neglect until now. I will never be the same, my life will never be comfortable again, I have been taught difficult lessons, and they are seared into my conscious memory. There is no escape, distractions cannot overwhelm the ever present reality, physics and physiology are bound together undeniably, there is no aging gracefully.
There is no dignity in death. There is no peace, the longer we survive the more ravaged our bodies and minds become until our intellect is less than a fetus, and yet we persist, witnessed in our own feces, struggling to hold on to that life force against the logic of the inevitable. Until our last breath leaves us, we will cling to our primal energy in a hopeless situation, gasping confused, hoping, unaware as our loved ones are destroyed in our transition to oblivion.
Time is a psychotic mistress keeping me bound and awake, slowly making me relive it, opening my eyes wider with each iteration, new details flood in with each passing wave. She laughs at my naïveté, whispering truths I've manage to neglect until now. I will never be the same, my life will never be comfortable again, I have been taught difficult lessons, and they are seared into my conscious memory. There is no escape, distractions cannot overwhelm the ever present reality, physics and physiology are bound together undeniably, there is no aging gracefully.
There is no dignity in death. There is no peace, the longer we survive the more ravaged our bodies and minds become until our intellect is less than a fetus, and yet we persist, witnessed in our own feces, struggling to hold on to that life force against the logic of the inevitable. Until our last breath leaves us, we will cling to our primal energy in a hopeless situation, gasping confused, hoping, unaware as our loved ones are destroyed in our transition to oblivion.
