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They say we all must die. I don’t understand, why must it happen?

I want to become before I die.

I don’t want to die yet. I haven’t accomplished anything. I still haven’t found God.

If I die right now, my grave – flooded by my own tears and sweat – will drown my corpse into infernal earth and hell.

What if I die tonight? I wouldn’t wake up in my home. I wouldn’t graduate. I wouldn’t fall in love. I wouldn’t get to do so many things I aspire to do and become.

I die every day. I die every time I remember my sins, my fake pride, my lies, my life.

I died this morning. In my sleep, I felt a pang of pain in my chest and it flowed out of me and down. They told me I would rise, soar up to the sky but I fell down and the earth swallowed me.

I am dead. It’s somehow beautiful.

Painting by Simon Birch

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