like I'm dying. No, not like I'm having an allergic reaction or acute lead poisoning. Not like I've been hit by a car or been diagnosed with cancer. It's the feeling that my individuals cells are replicating and dying and replicating and dying and becoming less and less correct with every iteration. It's the feeling where I'm getting older and more decrepit every second. It's the feeling that I used to be cleverer and stronger and better. I'm dying. My brain is shutting down. My nervous control is weakening. My senses fading to black. I'm not going to be here forever. I never was. Human is temporary. Machine is temporary. No part of me will remain. I'm dying. The end isn't in sight either. It may not be a hunter unbeknownst to its prey but death has a habit of sidling up real close and whispering, "Boo." But I can still feel it. Dying. I can still feel the slow and unstoppable destruction of the self. I can still feel weakness taking me, millionths of microns at a time. It happens to everyone. Everyone else can laugh and cry and scream. Everyone else seems to ignore it. It's maddening. I don't know what to do. I can't stop it. I can't cope with it. There is no out. There never was. There can't be. Inevitability is the charm. I'm scared.
I've been creeping myself out thinking about mortality and **** lately. Like I could get into my car tomorrow and crash and that would be it, I wouldn't have achieved anything I wanted to in my life, and the world would keep spinning without me on it. Scares the **** out of me. I blame all the poetry I've been reading.
Get a ticket and join the line. XD Serously though, I don' t worry much about my own death anymore. I' m much more scared about the death of family and friends, but even then I don' t obsess about it either. If time is all I have then I might a well be an epicurean and enjoy the now rather than waste any of it overthinking future maybes. I do have hopes for the future but it' s more about not screwing up big time than about "leaving a mark" (I' m no dog and I already left one anyway), being part of a grand master plan or anything like this.
...Heh, funny. I figured putting words to it would make it worse, but it's kinda comforting to know I'm not the only one feeling that. Maybe we can be scared together.
I've been acquainted with these sensations since the age of about twelve. There's the possibility they might dissipate with time, as I grow accustomed to feeling and reeking like death every day. Then there's the possibility it will worsen as I grow older, except instead of being able to partake in heartfelt, nostalgic discussions with the rest of my peer group I will have none to share, nary a meaningful memory to keep with me till death. Midlife crisis forty years too soon. Happy, dull thoughts.
Me too, lady. Me too. ****'s scary to think about. How limited you are even if you don't die in a crash or from some tragic accident is scary to me. Thinking about how we only have one, short childhood kills me too- makes ya think you wasted it being an introvert.
