No time for love Dr. Jones
Treading water, full of worry
One day, I am going to die.
How this concept does not affect my every waking thought,
for every second of every day, is beyond me. I was lying in
bed last night, struggling to sleep - as I have been
lately, work seems to be the main offender, weighing on my
mind until I can’t drift off - and to be quite honest, it
scared me. One day, I will stop breathing, be hit by a bus,
fall out a window, be shot, poisoned or electrocuted, yet
the thought doesn’t enter my day to day routine. Instead I
spend my day worrying about what is going to happen at
work, with the band, what will I be eating for lunch today,
and other such important matters.
Really, there is no need for me to be frustrated with my
life. It’s not going to be forever. I shouldn’t be
stressing myself over the necessary evils, I need to work
so that I can afford to do the things that may make my life
But still, that whole death thing is a big, black, scary
outline in the distance that will have to be faced one day.
One way or another.
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