I've been doing very good distracting myself with work and reading e-books but every so often it finds me. My foot slips a little and I inadvertently glance into the bottomless pit that is the eternity I fear. After those brief little glances it eats at the edges of my consciousness. It isn't the last moments that scare me, that haunt me. It is all the days and years and eternities between the moment I am in and the moment I will cease to be.
If these millions of days that loom in every shadow were something physical I would give them to all the people who are dying with things left undone and families to sit with not feeling the need to say anything but just enjoying their company.
If I ever do come upon the Autobots again I am going to be selfish and tell them the truth. We humans are great at persevering and surviving but we are a finite species. We function at our greatest when we know we have only so much time and even that isn't promised to us. We burn so brightly because we know we don't have long. They should never have revived me.
This is the feeling of waiting for the madness and sorrow and ambivalence to overcome the voice that has always been with me telling me to live.
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