
WhatDoesTheFoxSay?
Hold your head high, and your middle finger higher
- Dec 25, 2020
- 1,152
Another one of those strange dreams. I was nearing the end of my life. On what I thought was my last day, I lay down for a nap on a stretch of beach. I wanted to be carried off by the waves to the great unknown. To my dismay however, I woke up in the frozen in fear, in the middle of the ocean. Even though my days were numbered, I wasn't ready to die. A split second later I found myself back at home, only passing two days later.
Fear is the only reason why I'm still here. I aborted two previous attempts, having broken down in tears for reasons I wish I knew. Needless to say, I'm afraid of botching an attempt and ending up worse off than I am. Not only that, but I will also have to live out the remainder or my life weighed down by guilt and shame, shunned and scorned by the community. I can't bear the thought of leaving on my loved ones wounds that will never heal. It is my obligation. Whether I live or not, whatever impressions they once had of a good daughter and sister will be irreparably sullied.
To me, life is hardly worth living when there is nothing to gain nor lose. A struggle for what, and at what cost? Much to my annoyance, trying to reason with that inner child has been to no avail. You will fall on deaf ears in its obstinate refusal to capitulate to adversity. Whether you are rich or poor, beautiful or ugly, young or old, death comes to all of us. It is, after all, the only constant in a life of ebbs and flows. So why then, do we fear the Reaper? Self-preservation is like malware encoded in into the very fabric of our existence by our cosmic slave-masters, a paradoxical slap in the face of an unwilling soul.
Fear is the only reason why I'm still here. I aborted two previous attempts, having broken down in tears for reasons I wish I knew. Needless to say, I'm afraid of botching an attempt and ending up worse off than I am. Not only that, but I will also have to live out the remainder or my life weighed down by guilt and shame, shunned and scorned by the community. I can't bear the thought of leaving on my loved ones wounds that will never heal. It is my obligation. Whether I live or not, whatever impressions they once had of a good daughter and sister will be irreparably sullied.
To me, life is hardly worth living when there is nothing to gain nor lose. A struggle for what, and at what cost? Much to my annoyance, trying to reason with that inner child has been to no avail. You will fall on deaf ears in its obstinate refusal to capitulate to adversity. Whether you are rich or poor, beautiful or ugly, young or old, death comes to all of us. It is, after all, the only constant in a life of ebbs and flows. So why then, do we fear the Reaper? Self-preservation is like malware encoded in into the very fabric of our existence by our cosmic slave-masters, a paradoxical slap in the face of an unwilling soul.
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