Thoughts Unchained

I am a human
I dont yet understand this world I live in. But I like to communicate with fellow humans. Writing these posts, I hope that I can establish some form of understanding on my level, for myself.

And conversely, though I dont believe I will ever understand in my lifetime, I hope in communication with other humans like myself I can help move us forward to that understanding all crave for.

I will never have all the world's secrets in this lifetime. But, I will write anything that comes out of my brain, sharing my thoughts with others, to combine with their ideas, in the hope that those who walk after me will find the path to understanding easier.
I do hope the future generations will move forward on the paving stones of our thoughts.

I wish all thinking humans well in our struggle to find happiness in that understanding.

These thoughts, as small as they are, represent the smallest, bluest drop in the ocean of humankind's race to understand. And are purely one human being speaking to another, in the sincerest hope all our thoughts, no matter how useless , will one day push the grey tides back and show the path that is understanding, to all.

Chained Wings


I am falling,
my wings, chained as they were, unseen,
yank me back to earth.
And I pay for my ascent,
with the inevitable crash landing.

All I can do,
is close my eyes,
and pretend I am floating,
among the nimbus clouds,
where I belong.

And I know,
that whether I open my eyes or not,
the ground is reaching out to me,
like a cruel hand,
ready pull me in,
and crush my ideas of freedom
within a cynical fist.

Yet though I flew too high,
and paid for it with my happiness.
I was once free.
I once saw the red rays of bliss,
enfolding the crisp white clouds of passion,
on a clear blue morning,
beyond the wildest dreams of men.

And I will forever hold those memories of joy to my bosom,
as I fall ever closer to my demise.

I wish all could see what I have seen.
And I feel melancholy so many have never flown so high ,
and even worse so many have been given life,
and never felt what I have felt.

But,
I accept my fate,
and brace myself,
for the cruel hard surface,
that is today's world.

Are you alone?
Do you feel alienated?
Did you think your life was all astronauts and cowboys?

Where are you now?
I cant see you.
Why aren't you in the hemisphere,
waving the flag of achievement?
I dont see your drawn gun and shining badge.

Yet you were told anything was possible,
if you just wished hard enough,
and "reached for the stars."

Are you dissatisfied?
Do you want more?
This world has so much to give.

But you are trapped,
and cannot be part of the masses.
You cannot partake of that shared dream.
You're left in the dirt.

As your breaths take in the dust,
of those that passed you by...
You can hear me..

Another soul,
calling,
to those left behind,
in that march toward nothing;
underfoot of feet trampling the ones that feel.
Those cursed with conscience.
Those not party,
to the great plan of,
the hive mentality.

I call to you,
alienated soul,
left behind bird,
so called loser...

hear me now and understand;
you aren't alone.
You are not the weird one,
the one that failed.

You who hearken to this call,
you are, the ones that change the future.
The ones that dictate tomorrow.

And, your differences,
though the cause of deepest pain,
are what others one day,
will silently acknowledge,
in this brotherhood of rejects,
and sisterhood of outcasts,
as the unseen glue,
that holds this planet together.

Dearest Friend

My dearest friend,
my closest companion.
You were with me from the beginning.
You have seen me cry, and your tears were mine.
You have seen me laugh; your mirth was mine.
You have soared with me in my highest highs,
and you were down there in my deepest pit of despair.

But I sense in you now,
a malady.
And I see you waste away,
with each passing day.
Caused by your longing,
and your desire to once again fly high.


It hurts to watch you,
year after year,
straining against the shackles of mundanity,
pacing the small space you now reside in.

I long to set you free.
To emancipate you from your jaded cage.
And watch you soar,
bound no more by oppressiveness.

As I approach your prison with intent,
you again show signs of life.
You sense your coming freedom.
And as I grip the bars,
and force them ever wider,
you flutter agitatedly

I know you know it now,
the sky is calling.
Blue and wide and full of dreams.

The bars which hold you in;
claws on a greedy hand
clutch you tighter,
like a dying man.

But as I break the last knuckle,
and reach in to take your jittery form,
I feel your palpable need in my hands.
So sharp it almost hurts to share your pain.

We can both sense it now;

freedom.

The freedom to fly high,
no longer bound by laws of gravity.

I hold you aloft.
A tear escapes my eye.
I wish I could come with you.
And not be destined by fate and physics,
to never venture where you venture today.
I must remain here.

Grounded.

But, I wish you well in your journey.
And hope you will remember me.
and all we once experienced.

Fly now my friend! Fly high!

I give you a helping push into the sky...

...only to watch you land at my feet.
And lay there convulsing.
Poor, blood filled vessel.
Heart shaped muscle.
Dearest friend mine.

My parents were mundane.
Yet, I have teeth and claws. Sharp teeth that bite, that spit poison at unintelligent society.
Shining claws that carve gouges from those that represent emotionless sheep.

I am the result of a woman that was all passion.
And a man that was all mind.
A creation of those all about human emotional hedonism and feeling; plus those that are cold hands and logic, devoid of feelings.

But what happens to those of us that are the creation of both?
The aching hearts and emotionally erect,
The cool and thoughtful.

Sadly, we become starving poets of our era.
I guess we become the combination of intellect and passion.

This gives us a perception of the world others do not.
And we feel the emotion others cannot experience.

I am a product of such.
I am feeling and perceiving on the deepest levels.
A mongrel of hedonistic human,
and cool dispassionate, philosopher.
I am the creature made of passion and perception.

I bleed,
and I see the pattern it leaves upon my skin.

Grandfather.

Grandfather,
you taught me so much.
The difference between opaque and transparent,
and the concept of anagrams.

You read to me at night
And I still remember
that tale of The Man who was Magic.
And the magical feeling it instilled in me.

And you took the time
to play darts and bowls
basketball and tennis
with a young child.

And to explain to him the world
and impart some of your unique sense of wonder
that never became jaded or faded
no matter how old you became.

And though I told you I loved you
the last time we spoke
actions speak louder than words.
And I was too busy living my life
to show you I cared you were ending yours.

I was always too busy, procrastination,
whispering lies into my ears
telling me
"there would be time tomorrow,"
while you sat on a chair, in the backyard
and wondered why I wasn't there.

And while I was so busy
with moving house
and work, and other dramas.
Feeling I was becoming a better human
death was blossoming inside your body
and really, I was becoming a worse human
because I forgot the things that really mattered.

I never once visited in your final days.

And though I tell myself it wasn't my fault
and that I always meant to.
And that I never knew
just how close to death you were
I know in my heart
I have no excuse.


And the day you died
was the day my guilt was born.
And oh what an ugly child it is!

It teases me with cruel words
torments me with "what ifs."
It burrows into my brain.
like a corrupt maggot.
Feeding on my conscience
gorging itself so fat on my self loathing.

Till my mind haemorrhages
and the pain spills from my eyes
screams, howling out my mouth.
And my heart feels it must burst.
For no mere sack of flesh can hold such
agony within.

Still my pain will not bring you back.

But I have written about you,
and told an unknowing world
just how good a person you were.

And though these words are too little
and months too late.
And feel hollow as the world now does without you.

They give me my only respite
till I can come to terms with the apathy
that caused a caring person
to not visit his grandfather
because he felt his own selfish life too important
to show another, thier life was important too.

I am wondering where you are now
I wish you well.
And I write this to you
in the hope that whatever form you now have
you will finally know what I thought of you.

And that I would gladly
take this pain as penance
every day, for the rest of my days
for just the few minutes,
it would have taken
to let you know I cared.

Im sorry.

Perception.


Ever the optimist.

I look out my window and see...

Cars drive past, celebrating the invention of the wheel.
We have come so far from caves and clubs. Every human I see wants to better himself. To see the rainbows of living and feel a deep passion while existing. We have discovered so much and invented ever more.

We live in a pacified, happy environment. Food is abundant. Warmth is ever near. Each person that drives past my window is going happily forward to make a better way of life for the world.

Like bees, industriously working to make our hive more productive, each one of them moves to their designated place, and will strive hard to make my existence, and their own all the more happier.

The sun sets on all that mankind has discovered, invented and built to make life that much better, and the people appreciate that fact.



Ever the pessimist.


I look out my window and see...

Selfish humans, never even thinking on the invention their ancestors made for them, driving one car to one person, even though they could easily share the ride. Spewing pollution from their exhausts, never having the brains to realise the poison emitting from something they so easily use to get from A to B is destroying the universe above them and the world in their lungs.

They are so lost in their own thoughts. Their insignificant dreams and mundane needs are all that ever matter. They will live and die in a world of greed, ignoring the fact they destroy that which is good, in their fight to desperately keep their own herd mentality from death, with a veil of jaded complacency.

The beautiful sun that has laid its art before all is not even seen, in the cattle rush to wander from A to B... and never really go anywhere at all.


Ever the Realist.

I look out my window and see...

Motor vehicles roar past. The invention of the wheel to better ourselves, just another tool to move forward. Humankind pushes ahead, thoughts and feelings are nothing. Hedonism and individuality are for the "here and now." Nothing matters. It just is.

The world turns. The sun rises on all humanities plans, and falls on all its disappointments.

It is oblivious to us. Wether we are Hitler or Einstein, the sun gives us light and warmth, and never takes sides.

People exist and die, live, laugh, hate and cry. And thier dreams are dreamt and thier existance is merely the smallest ripple in an immense ocean.

My opinion is nothing. I, in all my selfish egotism, will never make a feather's dent.

But, things will go on. Wether I see the people outside my window as good or bad- they will still drive past. And the sun will still set, and the inventions will still come. And I will still forever be able to see it in any way I choose.

The modern knight.


Apathy is my armour
indifference my shield
arrogance my sword
with sarcasm I wield.

and when true battle ensues...
you yield.

chained wings you are a tortured soul...
I wish i could break your chains and give you a push into the unknown.
I would say "take my hand and jump, don't look down just take a leap of faith and see who catches you..."

Thank you for your concern.
I guess you could say I am a tortured soul.
Also, I think Im a little misunderstood.

Like the last piece I wrote.
Im sure many people who read it think it refers to me.

But in actuality, I was lamenting how the people we look up to nowadays and the people we rely on for protection and direction are so lacking in any true substance or virtue.

And as a result society learns this misguided notion of what is noble and honourable... the "virtues" it now uses to cope with this world, are in actual fact vices.

As for how I come across, I am just a very sensitive and passionate man with allot of emotion inside me.

So I guess all this is my "painting in progress."

This thread is the canvas, my heart is the artist, my mind the hand, my emotions the paint.

What will come of it, I do not know. Only that I have to do it.

Its my way of expressing the way I see and feel about the world.

Muse.

Ever hear a wolf howling at the moon?
and felt its sad cry stir your soul?
I too can feel the longing in that cry
the yearning in that bellow.

Wether the call of the moon
or something else-
my muse calls to me.

It calls to my heart
it beckons to my soul
it whispers to my mind
calling me, calling me
wanting something from me.

And my heart pours forth the answers
with words of emotion
and metaphors of my very being.

My muse is nether male or female
black nor white.
They are just a feeling
a force, a yearning
a notion, a call.

And like the moon to the wolf,

it calls, and I must answer.

With my own emotional howl.
Passionate, candid
heartfelt and yearning.

You, who have be-spelled me
since I first had the concept of need
I wonder who you are.

Are you the moon?
Are you a god?
Are you mother earth herself?
Or are you my soulmate?

Trapped on the other side of the world
howling back at me
feeling my own pull
like the tides of the sea.

And do you too wonder
why the call must be answered
why your emotions spill out
in words that do not feel your own?

And do you too
feel your heart answering
whenever the howl's of the wolf
call to their unreachable companion
their muse, the moon?

Positivity, negativity, the wheel, and the way forward.


For thousands of years mankind has debated, fought, hated and killed each other in one endless fight to see who is right about why we are here, what we are meant to do and how we should do it.

So far no god or higher power has come down to prove any one side right or wrong. Or even give us the faintest clue as to what it is we are meant to be doing here.

And no man, no matter how wise, has been able to give me the slightest satisfactory answer.

I feel it has been left to me to try and decipher exactly why we are here. Or more importantly, why I am here.

I have no idea.

Sadly Im sure in the current stage of our evolution no one will come up with any answers in my lifetime.

Yet I need some kind of clue as to what the fuck I should be doing with my time here. How I should be acting? How I should be thinking. And where I should be going.

I guess I have some kind of "moral compass" that has always directed me in the path I have felt is right.

I never needed the fear of going to Hell to make me treat others fairly, and I never needed the law to tell me what is right and what is wrong.

I have chosen my own laws. I have made my own rules. I have lived by one simple motto:

IF IT FEELS GOOD. DO IT. SO LONG AS IT DOESN'T HURT ANOTHER.

It gives me the freedom to live in the "truest" sense, while at the same time ensuring those living around me do not suffer for my happiness.

It means that when people like Hitler tell me its the law to turn in all Jews and to think a certain way- I know with a clear conscience that MY law is above theirs.

It is the Law of Morals. It is the Path of Perception. It is the Code of Compassion. It is the Road of Hedonism. It is the Drive of Discovery. It is the Quest of Questioning.

And it is the only way I know.

Above all, it is living and knowing I am alive when there is such a finite time I have on this planet.

And until someone comes down from the heavens and says, David, you are doing this all wrong. And if you continue in your foolish ways, I shall smite you, and you shall live out your eternal existence in a tortured landscape of pain and retribution- I shall follow this way that I have chosen for myself, as I always have.

As for how others live their lives and whether any of my own simple philosophies can be applied to the rest of the world.

Look at it like this...

We are born into this planet. We are given a set amount of time. No less. No more.

We are innately good. We have a certain amount of free will. And have the potential to do either positive things in that allotted time or negative things.

No matter what you choose to do with that time; wether you had a positive impact on the world in that time or a negative impact, that is all that matters.

It is up to YOU to decide what you want to do with your allotted time.

Will try your hardest to leave some lasting positive impression in this world? So that when your forbears are alive they may find their time that much more easier. And they may move the wheel that much closer to finding what it is we are really meant to be doing?

Or will you say screw the world. I'll do what I want or what MY god or MY government wants, even if it means suffering for those around me. Will you selfishly take and take, destroy that which others build up? Will you not care for the present you are born into, those around you and the future of those that come after you?

Will you live a life of apathy, indolence and ignorance, oblivious that there must be a better way just waiting to be discovered? So that oneday somebody just like you wont look up to the sky and ask "why?" every five seconds when their mundane, pointless life goes wrong?

I see the world as having two types of people. Those that do positive things in their time. And those that pull down and destroy in their time.

There isn't an answer as to how we are meant to live. Governments, civilisations, religions, empires and kingdoms have all thought they had the answer at one time... they have all fallen.

Gods and deities and higher powers have so far sat on their celestial clouds and never told us a thing.

And while we choose to kill and rape and fight and debate, the answer is lying out there, buried someplace where we least expect to find it.

I say that you can either do your small but positive thing and live a life that helps us get closer to that answer. Or you can spend all your time slowing the course of nature and make it that much longer till we find the answers.

The earth keeps turning. People are born. People die. Wars are fought and discoveries are made. It is all a cycle.

And you, while you read this, are part of that cycle.

I have no idea why that cycle is there. But it is. And I feel that like a wheel, you can either push it forward, or you can be a dead weight.

They say that chivalry is dead. Everyone lives for themselves. And when everyone is clawing one another to reach the top of some great pile of writhing, greedy humanity, it is very hard to not feel that panic and try to get above those that push you down.

But if you could do one thing, however small in your time, I think the most noble thing you could do is choose to be one of the positive people in the worlds history.

You may never be thanked for it. You may never be famous for it. You may live your whole life alone and unhappy. And you most certainly will fade into the earths dust when you are done.

But oneday when humankind has evolved enough to know what it is we should be doing, and there is a way of life that makes us live happy, fulfilled lives, you can rest assured in the knowledge that YOU helped create that future.

The wheel will turn, with or without your help. The more of us that choose to be negative in our time, the harder those that are positive have to push to make the human race move forward. This leads to more suffering and the wheel takes that much longer to get us where we are meant to be going.

No one has told me what I should be doing, and I dont feel I have much to contribute in the grand scheme of things.

But until someone comes down here and tells me what it is Im meant to be doing, Ill choose to believe in my own moral compass.

And if all I can do is try to be helpful to those around me, to not be selfish, to not be negative, to try and find a way forward, to make life easier for the rest of the world, so they may do what it is they are meant to do-
then I will gladly and with all my heart try to push this wheel forward.

Maybe until we know otherwise- that is the meaning of life...

Legacy.

I want to leave a legacy behind.

But I dont want to be a pharaoh
spending countless lives
to build a glorified monument to death.

I dont want to be a general
and bleed men in their thousands
making red ink for history's pages.

I do not want to be a politician
trading ideals, virtues and integrity
for a marble statue
and the hope of being remembered.

I do not wish for wealth and its trappings
to build a great phallus that fucks the sky.

I do not seek the fleeting glory of fame
to forever immortalise my face in celluloid.

Nor, do I wish for a child
to carry on my family name
in a desperate attempt
to keep my genes in humanities pool.

I want none of this.

What legacy I truly want,
is for a great idea to supersede me.

Death.

(Part One.)


Imagine you were out in the middle of nowhere. No way to contact the world and you were not reading this, but knowing this.

And it was telling you that you only had moments left to live. In the time it takes for you to read this you will have died.

What would you do?

Here's some help.


Look at your hand.

Look at the way it is made. The way the fingers flex and move, all independently, skillfully, as your mind tells them to. Look at the muscles and tendons rippling underneath. Such an amazing design.

A way of manipulating the world around you, touching, interacting with it and feeling it.

Whatever your eyes see, your hand can touch. Your eyes are the focusing tool, which give you your entire perception of the world. Whatever you see is you. As you are interacting with the world and in the world, you see this world and it is seen inside your mind.

And now touch your other hand.

Feel the amazing softness of your skin. That miraculous cover made to keep all of the harmful things in the environment out of your body. Something that lives and breathes and sweats and soaks up fluids and absorbs the world around you, feels and protects.

All in one amazing, living sheet, wrapped round you.

And think of how good it is to touch things with your body. Whether your, hands, feet, tongue, or any other part that is enmeshed safely in your ever feeling skin.

It can give the joy of sex. Just think, two bodies touching one another can make your whole body, both inside and out feel explosions of happiness.
Wouldn't you just love for another person to hold tight now? To feel the warm sensation of skin on skin. Wouldn't you love to make love one last time? Wouldn't you revel in the moment and not let one second escape you in your one last time?

Too late.

Now you have established what an amazing machine you have been gifted with, and how it has allowed you to perceive and feel and interact with your environment, always self repairing itself and continually renewing itself without you even knowing- look at your current surroundings. Use that wonderful lense of perception. Your eyes. And then use that wonderful tool for interaction. Your body.

Look at the grass beneath your feet.

Isn't it so lovely and green? Such a rich, verdant color. Isn't the concept of color so beautiful? What is color? It doesn't really matter now, other than it can give you a sense of surrounding and illicit happy feelings inside you.

Take your shoes off and feel that grass beneath your feet.

Let the little blades softy jab into your skin. Feel them, like playful feather swords, pricking your feet, letting you feel their presence. Feel them worm their way between your toes. Flex your toes and try to feel each blade under your footing.

Dig your toes deeper into the ground and feel the earth, this thing that birthed you and will soon take you back into its bosom.

Feel the grains of sand squirming under your pressuring foot. Imagine all the millions and milions of individual grains. Imagine them as tiny tiny worlds that have life on them too. And then the atoms that those grains are made of. And who knows what else may be inside the atoms that mankind has yet to discover.

So much right under your very feet all this time. And you never even noticed.

And it's too late now.

Now bend down and run your hands through the grass.
Feel the blades even moreso. That sense of touch is such a marvelous thing to have. Wouldn't you hate to loose it?

Take some of the earth in your hands.

Feel its grainy texture. Know that you are part if it. Know that it has supported your weight and your experiences for every second of your life. Thank it, for silently carrying you all this time without complaint as you massage it between your fingers.

Then let it slip through the cracks, just as your life is now slipping away.

Listen to the sounds around you.

The birds calling each other in the trees. The buzz of insects as they go about their daily lives. The sound of the breeze, just a soft sigh in your ears, a lovers whisper.

That sound, like the sight, is inside you just as you are in it. Another way to perceive the world. It's in your mind. It's such a beautiful sensation. Think of all the melodious pure sounds you've heard over your lifetime.

Think of how we invented music as one minds way of communicating with other minds in such a deep, spiritual way. And how that music made you feel.

Think of your favorite song. Think of the feelings it birthed in you. Wouldn't you love to hear it again?

Too late.

Think of your favorite meal even.

What did it taste like? Can you even recall? How did it make you feel when you ate it? What was its flavor like and how did it roll off the tongue? What was its texture like and what sensations did you feel when you ate it?

Infact, can you even remember what the last meal you ate felt like?

Wouldn't it be good to have that one last meal knowing you were about to die? Wouldn't you savor every bite. Wouldn't you attentively listen to your tongue tell you exactly where it is being stimulated, just like you would a sensitive lover? Wouldn't you eat it very sparingly, chewing every bite more than once, and knowing what it TRULTY tasted like. And in eating it, you were in fact not just feeding yourself. But had been given the gift of pleasure when you did such a seemingly mundane task.

Too late. Another piece of food will never pass you lips again.


Smell the flowers around you.

Aren't they so perfect smelling, with their naturalness? Dont they just scream Mother Nature to you? Do they remind you of other scents you have enjjpoyed? A favorite perfume? A favoutre aftershave? The smell of your grandmother's home baked cookies? The smell of your lover's hair?

Pick a rose one last time.
Hold it to your nose and gently inhale its aroma. Take a long deep breath, one of the last ones you will ever take, and revel in the sensation of its scent, such a simple thing that has always been there for you to enjoy.

Peel a petal off.

Feel the soft, velvety texture of its tender skin and how it bleeds if you press too hard. Enjoy the way your amazing hands can interact with this simple object of nature. The way the rose's blood seeps into your skin and seems to do so willingly, as if its only purpose is to look beautiful, and smell beautiful, and feel beautiful, and even die for you.

Peel the remaining petals off, one by one.

Think of the rose as your life. And each petal a period in your life. Do your best to feel the hidden, miniscule beauty that was always there. But never appreciated. Wouldn't you love to put those petals back? Wouldn't you love to feel them in a much more appreciative way this time round?

Like the rose, and its short time on this planet, it is too late. You will be dead very soon. A thing of beauty in your uniqueness and your naturalness, and your potential to make others feel joy also.

But over far too quickly.

As the rose drops to the ground and your fleeting time nears, look up to the sky.

See the amazing blue of the sky. Such a rich color. Such a vibrant color. Such a pleasing scene to the eye. Has it ever looked this good to you? What would you give to be allowed to live just a little more so you could see the sun, bright and radiant in the sky, sink slowly below the horizon, and change the hues of blue to so many other rich and wonderful colors? And to really see them and appreciate the fact you are able to experience a moment in time for what it really is?

One more sunset.

If only.


But you can still feel the warmth of the sun on your skin; that wonderful instrument for feeling you only now discovered a few moments ago.

Feel the sun on your face. On your arms. Feel its warm caress like your mothers hands warming you with such pleasant sensation.

That sensation, along with all others, will be gone soon. Never to feel the sun on your skin. Never to know the sensation of warmth. Never to know what rain feels like on your body again; a trillion tiny tongues licking at you and tickling your ears and nose and mouth and face and hands.

The closest you can get to that is feeling the soft wind as it blows over you.

Such a gentle soft blowing is so nice as it makes the hairs stand up on your arms. It's so soothing and so loving. You probably never even relised it could be that good. Until now.

And yet all it can do now is remind you of an invisible shroud slithering across your body. Reminding you that you will soon be gone and the pleasure of the sun and the wind and the rain will no longer be available to you.

Ever again.

Look once more at the sky.

This time, look further. Look out beyond your eyes vision and use your mental vision to see it. And imagine an entire universe, growing, shrinking, expanding, contracting, living, being. All without you ever having noticed it. All going on above you without you having the slightest clue it was even out there.

And now you ponder, too late, is there life on other planets? Is there someone, even now wondering about you? What do they think? Do they appreciate the fact they are living? I bet if you could talk to them right now, you'd tell them that they are, and that they should savor every moment of it.

But who knows. And who cares. For you will be dead soon.

Your last breaths can almost be counted now. Doesn't Angelina Jolie losing 12 kilos seem so trivial now?

You have had your time. You were lucky enough to even have had these few moments to appreciate what you had. Some humans live and die and never even know it.

Be thankful for this small moment, as it is all there is.

After that, there will be no more of any of the things you have just experienced.

And no more of the things you would so like to do, now you know you are about to die.

You will feel nothing, you will think nothing. You will do nothing. You will vanish and cease to exist. You will no longer be.


Dont you wish you had more time? Time to do more, and time to do it all better? Dont you wish that with all your heart? A heart that, as you think this, is beating slower and slower. A heart that felt so much good and bad that will soon feel no more at all.

Your breaths are becoming shorter. Now you notice them, you actually notice just how wonderful it was to actually breathe. The feeling of oxygen being absorbed into you. The sensational ness of that interaction between you and the outside world. Something that others breathed inside themselves going into you. Something that has been all around the world and touched it with its unique ghostly touch becoming part of you.

But those breaths come so short now. It's becoming harder to breathe.

How many more do you think you have? Youve had so many thousands in your lifetime.

And now the last few are so very important.

You wonder which will be the last. You try to suck in more air and make them longer. But as much as you try, you cannot get as much as you once did into your lungs.

Funny how in the movies you watched, the games you played, the books you read and the things you were told, someone breathed their last breath, and you felt the cathartic feeling of a life ending; but until now, you didn't understand what it meant. They stopped. But you breathed on. You had many many more breaths and never even realized how precious each one was.

Do you want this to be your last breath as you read this?

Or this one?

Or perhaps this one?

Things are growing dark now. Your vision dims. No more green grass, azure, sunsets or blue skies.

You wish it was sleep but you know you will never wake up. You heartbeat is as conspicuous as a ghost.

This is your final breath.

No more sky, wind, warmth, coldness, favoute meals, happiness, sorrow, pain, laughter, sex, love, sounds, sights, colors, thoughts rainbows, feelings, living.

Or anything else…

Breathe in as deep as you can.

Try to prolong the inevitable. Your eyes are closed. You feel your skin one last time, grasping for contact, the sheer pleasure of being able to feel. All going, fading, in this last breath.

The next breath never comes.

Everything stops.

YOU ARE DEAD.

All those things you experienced will NEVER EVER be known to you again.

I hope it was a good life.