Sometimes I can't fall asleep because I lay awake thinking about death. I am young, and I am surrounded by such healthy, ambitious individuals that the idea of one of us dying would come as a shock. I wouldn't say I fear death in itself, but I fear the mask it might wear as it approaches. Would it be a long spell of suffering, several minutes of crushing pain, or would it come slow and most welcome after all the people I love have long since perished?
I don't want to take this life for granted, nor the people I love, because in a heartbeat, we extinguish so easily like a candle in the wind.
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