I’m not afraid of death. How I die, or what happens after I die isn’t what I’m scared of. What makes me afraid is the fact that after I pass the world isn’t going to stop. New thing’s, occurrences whether positive or detrimental are going to happen and I’m not going to be around to experience them. In many ways the world is very beautiful. And part of what makes it beautiful is that it’s always changing. Sure humanity is shit, and it most likely isn’t going to get better anytime soon. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be a part of it. There are so many things that are going to happen when I’m not around. I don’t want to die. I don’t ever want to die. But I will die. And that’s what I’m afraid of.
I found this written on the back of my psychology textbook
There’s no point in being deep and meaningful and shit, if no one around you is deep and meaningful and shit.
Don’t they know it hurts? The fact they will never understand my deepest passions and soulful desires. It hurts. It pains. It tortures my soul with growing agony.
Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were
but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady,
as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself
for you and dote upon the exchange.
Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth
with a kiss, and let not him speak neither.
William Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing