My sense of living

The reason for my urgency of life, the sense of immediate living, and my ever apexing optimism, is the tactile sensation of death running a cold, bony finger across my throat. It’s a little like being trapped with a bunch of beautiful fish in a sealed container of water with no exit, and a single deep lungful of breath. With no evident escape I gaze with joy and wonder at the fish, cognizant of these last seconds, capitalizing my reality towards more expedient ends.



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