“How odd, I can have all this inside me
and to you it’s just words.”
- David Foster Wallace
I've been thinking about death, about dying, a lot more than I'd ever admit. The shaking, the dread, the give up at the end and the drift.
I'm falling for the idea of that drift, that escape.
And so if you ask me what I'm going to do with my future and I say not die, that's not a sarcastic or empty sentiment.