I wonder what it is like to die.

I wonder if your breath slowly comes to a stop.  I wonder if you writhe in pain,
I wonder if you twist and turn, contorting your body, resisting the natural flow.

I dream of death, and endless sleep. I dream of surfing that last breath into infinite slumber.

Sometimes I’m frightened of the process, and so I cannot help but wonder

If I die, will I suffer, or will I become enlightened?

Will things move fast or slow?  Will I be cockeyed or completely aware?

I wonder if it feels like suffocating or a peaceful sleep.

I just want the pain to end, and unto me have this death creep.


I was suffering severely when I wrote those words that like torrents of tears poured from my mouth, my face – and face is the value you took them at: a mistake.  The words that push you away were meant to call you back.  Back to the place that we once started from. Friends.  Fearless friends that fought, that fought each other, fought against the bad, bad that is in the words, the world, the whirlwind of thoughts we had, that echoed each other.