I was just lying in bed w/ insomnia, trying to think pleasant sleepy-time thoughts, so naturally I start to think about death, my own. Obviously we all know we're going to die, but I realize it's been a sort of vaguely abstract notion to me. I mean I've thought about it to the extent of picturing a withered ancient & feeble version of myself peacefully surrendering in my sleep. Since I'm old enough to realize ideals only exist in the imagination, I know dying will mostly likely be unexpected, and fucking terrifying.

How do you deal w/ your own mortality?

the only part i don't like about dying is decomposing ugly/stinky or getting burned then crushed in the cremation machine.

don't tell me i'm thinking about it wrong either.

that's the only part i don't like.

i also don't like it if i die by a somehow disfiguring murder.

i have to protect my shell. above all.

when i think about death, i think like an egg.

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I just keep going. I believe that much like everything else on earth, that we don't die and just cease to exist but the way we live and see things merely go somewhere else and we change form. That's how I hope it is anyway.

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http://christinechubbuck.forums-free.com/

~If I Bleed, He Spills No Seed~

http://whyiskrnotworking.niceboard.net

As my testicles sag & wrinkles appear I find it easier to accept the disintegration of my body.

In your case though, clotty, I wouldn't worry about putrification. I'm sure your followers will embalm and prop you up to your liking Lenin style on a KR twitter mausoleum.

For me, it's more about the fear of living a petty life as a result of denying death.

a detour from the morbid...