Death is a bitch. We all lose it when one of our loved ones dies. When someone you love leaves this earth you are left with a missing piece of your heart that never heals.
I’m was trying to sleep last night, and couldn’t drift off
to la-la land. For some reason I thought about death and how much I hate it. Of
course we all hate death. (Unless you’re 23 and just married a 92-year-old) but
I hate death in every aspect of life. Starting with friendships; we’ve all had
those best friends with whom you couldn’t go a day without talking to, then
suddenly because of something that happened or just how you’re lives changed—it’s
no more and the friendship is dead.
When a favorite TV show of mine goes off the air I always
feel remorse. Of course there are shows like The Simpsons which go on forever
and you wish they would die. I love watching an old movie I’ve never seen and I
always find myself looking up some of the actors; I always feel bad when I find
out that they died young or were in constant direst.
Wouldn’t it be nice if my dog could live as long as me; flowers
could stay bloomed all year round, and that damn produce that you bought on
Monday wasn’t rotten by Wednesday?
Death is a part of life, and I except it and carry on. Still, even when an enemy dies I still feel bad and take a minute to remember them. We all go back into the earth one way or another but that never erases the energy we leave behind, and until it’s my time to go I will remember everything that has died before me.
No comments:
Post a Comment