Have you really entertained the notion that we are all going to die? That we are all destined for decay or flames? To be honest, the weight of this concept plagues me at night; I dilute the guilt I harbour for having let the past 22 years of my life pass me by through making the resolution to begin living for the moment at daybreak. I guess inhibitions prefer to make their rounds at daylight. I know that as I cling to my last dying breath I’ll regret the nights I made the promise to act out the scripts I’d devised when sleep left me to fend for myself. I’d propose that we pull an all-nighter, that you make a list of all the things you wish you’d done (but didn’t) and I could play the saviour and - at least for one night - treat you like you’ll be more than just another weathered tombstone in no time…but my fear of life (if you can believe it) overshadows my fear of death , so I’ll just let the silence suffocate so many words left unspoken (but every one sincerely meant).
