A dream, surreal. All the people I've know'd. Every moment, gone - here then gone. Spent so much of my life, complaining, what is there to complain about - wanting a different life - not leaning into this life, not living this life. Live your destiny. And this, too. This, too. This too. Did I define my life, or did I default into it? NOT IN CONTROL / NOT KNOWING RELEASING CONTROL / RELEASING KNOWING The HALL OF SOULS - maybe I did choose this life Making a baby - RIDGE wheezing DESPERADOS No hope, without hope can't be redeemed - nothing to lose What are they going to do - sentence me to death? Kill the president if I wanted. Falling - nothing to hold onto, nothing onto which I could hold - just, a freefall. The emptiness of thought. Thoughts, here, then gone - just ideas - nothing compared to the reality of experience - something I'm watching - not me. So I'm gonna die. I'm going to my death. Acceptance. Being with others, not being alone. It happened to everyone, this wasn't just you; everyone would go through it. Grieving and crying being a normal part of the process. "I'm going to kill myself," I read. "Kill myself. Blow my brains, no, do something else. Die spectacularly. Instead of chemotherapy. Better to burn out, then fade away."