Before I go to bed

Whenever the topic of death comes up in casual conversation I’m always the speaker who surprises everyone by expressing just how little I fear the All Mighty Full Stop. (Thats my fancy wannabe literature-undergraduate way of referring to death–the end to the miserable sentence that is our lives) I mean to an extent I’m being completely honest. I really do whatever I can to live my life fearlessly and with the dignity of someone who’s not afraid to look death in the eye and spit.

But when the lights are switched off

and there’s not an audience-member in sight, I have one big fear when it comes to death. I’m piss-scared of dying in my sleep.

“Dying in you sleep” is almost always the option people choose when asked which way they’d rather die had they a say in the matter, it having the allure of seeming to be the least painful way to go. After all, when you’re sleeping you’re hardly conscious of the hustle and bustle of life around you. So it stands to reason you’d also be unconscious of the grim reaper as he floated dramatically around your room. And I guess that’s comforting for most people. Not having the end staring you in the face. But for me? Not so much. Because my fear is larger than our natural fear of death. It’s the fear of dying without having said what I feel I’m here to say. All the opinions floating around my head; all the theories living withing the confines of my ever-open mouth. I don’t want to feel as though I didn’t fulfill my purpose on this earth.

And so here it is, guys. My platform for saying everything I have to say BeforeIGoToBed…and maybe one day….wake up dead. [laughs]

Because if I don’t say it now…when will I?



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  • Hey, you.

    Thank you for reading through the ole b.l.o.g. I hope that you have been thoroughly satisfied. Let me know what you have for lunch, hey? Cheers.
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