I Think About Death

I think about death a lot. It's not a bad thing. . . . "It's just lifting weights. Shut and stop being emotional. Why do you care? Why do you give so much?" . . . Things i've heard. Things that I understand why people would ask. But things that don't matter to me. This action means more to me than I can describe. It's everything and nothing all at once. I respect a person's decision to not go all in, so I only ask the same from you and to respect my decision to take the dive. . . . I haven't always been here. But I think about death a lot. And because of this, I think about what it means to live a lot. Will I think about this when i'm on my death bed? Will I think about my loved ones? Will they think of me? I don't know. But I know I want to live fully, and honestly, and put all of myself into what I believe in. And I believe in myself. I believe in the scars. I believe in the torture, the blood, the tears, and the fear. I believe in death. Because it believes in me. . . . I think about death a lot. And that makes me want to live. . . . I'll die when I want to.