Obsessions, Life, and Death

As long as I can remember, I've been obsessed with two things: Sex and death.

I could go on and on about sex, but I think today I'm going to stick with the latter.

I spend a lot of time thinking about death. A weirdly large amount for someone as generally content and vibrant as myself. I don't think about killing myself, or even dying. Just that moment where I go from being alive to being dead. That moment of death.

What do you suppose it feels like? Is it painful, like when you get punched in the chest or you fall on your face? Or is it pleasant, like the rush of air conditioning as you walk through an entrance to a store on a hot day?

Maybe it's barely a feeling at all. Like a soap bubble popping. Barely leaving any residue or evidence behind.

Sometimes I think of it as when you come up for air when you've been under water for a long time. Everything is clearer. Your vision, your hearing, everything.

I like to think of life as kind of like being asleep. Before we were born we could hear it all, understand it all, but now we're sort of unconscious. Things tend to not make sense, sometimes they transition weird, some times are more vibrant than others, like dreams. Maybe we're all living these weirdly long dreams, and when we die it's like we're waking up from these dreams we're in.

Just something I was thinking about while I was brushing my teeth...

Keep it real readers.