As I was lying in bed at night, I listened quietly to the rhythm of my breathing. I can feel the soft texture of the sheets rustling on my skin and the cool air on my face. My mind started to wonder astray to a reoccurring thought.
I am going to die one day.
A fact that none can avoid.
To cease to exist. To stop breathing, to stop feeling, to stop thinking. To simply stop being.
The intensity hits me. My heart starts to pound furiously, my body heats up while cold fear crawls down my spine. Fear of the known and unknown.
Why do we exist.
Why do we die.
Is there an afterlife
Or is it a comfortable lie we tell ourselves.
……
……
……
I suppose we are meant to journey.
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