I ask a question as old as it is cliche. I no longer fear the ambiguity of death as I once did. It is not the thought of the actual act of dying that scares me, but rather my willingness to let go. There is no reason for me to share my story. It is no sadder than any others. We all live with our own burdens and sins. Some of us choose to fight the good fight, to “keep on trucking” as the saying goes. Others of us get our lives cut short, never given the option. And some of us choose to tap out early, unable to cope with the pressures of life.
As I think about the question that I have asked myself over and over all of these years, I realized I wasn’t asking the wrong question all together.
Are you afraid to die?
I am not.
I am afraid to live.
5 comments
Afraid to experience the transition between life and death? Yes. There is always the threat of pain, failure and its consequences – I’ve had enough fucking pain, thank you.
Afraid of death itself or being dead? No. And I am not afraid of living; I am completely fed up with it. I hate it. Life is a gargantuan boil on my ass.
im not afraid of dying, as long as the death is a worthwhile one.
I’m afraid of a painful death. As to what happens after — nope. No worries.
I’m terrified. I’m going tonight.
Afraid of failing to die & having to live with the aftermath? Yes. Afraid to die? No.