I hope to hide in a darkness that never ends.
It is through this hope that I may finally reconcile death permanently.


I think about death everyday.  I believe I will quit worrying about thinking about it or getting away from it.  

There is no afterlife.  In my case, I came to this conclusion through some science but mostly watching others embrace a fairy tale of an afterlife through cowardly believing pied pipers promising riches that will come Bembai, in the sweet by-and-by pie-in-sky.

I believe in It.
It is the magical thing of serendipity.
I think it runs on some sort of electron superposition theory.
I realize this too may be delusional, wishful thinking.
I never think anything that wasn't mostly determined by an experience that was mostly a pinball run through a game not run by the nobody called myself.

The time I felt most, shall I say, even glad to be walking towards death.  I was fulfilled with manic purpose.  The universe was alive with meaning.  Aliens were not only real, but were always sending me ideas into my thoughts straight way into the my thinking man who I am.

But all that was in response to extreme stress.  And my state-of-mind was too much to maintain any semblance of day to day functionality.