Yikes, edgy ass title right there.
I ponder death lots, not in a "woe is me" fashion either, I just enjoy dwelling on how I want my passing to be. I can foresee all the things I want to have done, or people I've saved from a lessened life, the moments I've had.
Then that son of a bitch FEAR creeps in
Previously I always thought of FEAR to accompany death in a non-satisfactory fashion, that somehow my fear made me somehow lesser than I could be.
No more.
I use my fear to celebrate the...
Death.
from Death.
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