I tease myself with the idea of the end of my life. It keeps me up at night and seethes in my nighttime visions of so-called sleep. How can something so easy be so difficult to fathom? I wake, feeling for my pulse to ensure that I once again walked through the ether and am triumphant over its raptures. In waking thoughts, I find myself wondering if through hemlock the truth can be found. Will I be happy on the other side? Will my desires for what it will be like be true or just that of another dark void? I know the world will miss my traversing and people in kind. How could this world no longer feel my footfalls on its face and not feel loss? How could the people I encounter daily not wish for just one more day with me? If this were not truth, then there would be no reason for me to continue this voyage. I have seen the death of others and know the feelings that burn within my own soul at their passing. When I walk through brightness at the end, I can only hope they are there to greet me.
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