It happened again tonight.
The dread.
The terror.
The instinctive shaking of my head, as my mind tries to wake my body up, trying to awake from a nightmare that unfortunately is only too real, trying to reject the logical conclusion it is faced with.
I am going to die.
However, dying does not particularly scare me per se.
I am going to cease to exist. From my perspective… There won’t be anything to perceive. I won’t even be aware of the fact. There’ll be nothing left of me to perceive the finality of my death.
And I will never come back again. After I die – that’s it. The clock is ticking, and when time runs out, from my personal and limited perspective, the entire universe will end – as I will end.
However, I am not writing this purely to be depressing. I don’t want to throw others deep into the pits of this despair, although inevitably this post may cause that for some. But rather, this is my rationalization of the situation – along with how, indeed, there may actually be some hope, however slim.
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