amazing grace

i couldn't help it
something draws me to it
and now i'm bawling like a baby

just returned from Dying is...
writings from the depths of her soul
it's beautifully poetic and cryptically funny
ephemereal and morbid at the same time

a selfish part of me is wistful over the fact
that i can never write like her
but i realise few can
those on the receiving end of Death's fickle mercy

some poignant excerpts most succinct
that will always stay with me

I now wonder which new problem I'll wake up with tomorrow. It is so tiring having to watch your body break down like this, and knowing that the worse is yet to come.

It[sadness] spreads itself out through your spirit so that you leave a trace of it in everything you do or say.

I'm now listening to some of the cheeriest sad music.

Maybe words never spoken / Aren't they the ones worth hearing?

everyone's fascinated with Death
the thought of fading into nothingness
that is so unfathomable
while we are seemingly immortal and infallible
on the cusp of adulthood
and in prime of our youth
with the decades of years beckoning ahead
to always think in the present and future
never to treasure the now
but always the proverbial "next time".

maybe this is the best way to celebrate xmas
not with fanciful gifts and gorging of yuletide goodies
but to learn an acute lesson
cherish the memories of past beloveds
appreciate the dear ones still living
and be thankful that we're all alive and well
from someone who's already gone.