As I sit listening to the songs of Christmas eve I find myself envious of those who know their fate. I have forever sat on the cusp of death and life. An uncomfortable place to spend your days. But sit here I do.
I'm loved. I rejoice in that.
I'm admired, I'm proud of that.
I'm independent, I rely on that.
I'm so close to an end. I assume that.
Saturday, December 24, 2016
Easier to be terminal
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