Currently playing:
"Till The Day I Die" by Garbage
"Till The Day I Die" by Garbage
The time has finally come.
I'm suffering from monroeic syndrome again.
I'd say t's the most challenging state of my sanity this year.
A totally different from my diva-ish moments or the 2-year old mid-20s crisis cycle.
I exhausted myself with lots of contemplation for the past 47 hours,
I'm still strucked of the thought dying in my sleep.
The idea of death does not terrify me but the sense of dying plainly scares the hell out of me.
I just couldn't allow it.
I have sworn that I'll be dead by 36,
that's 12 years from now,
and it has to be a graceful death no matter what it takes.
But right now,
I'm petrified.
Maybe,
it's the illusion of the ghoul from my dream.
Or maybe,
it's the ugly truth that I'm not yet ready to pose for my wake.
A cliche.
Death is unpredictable.
Achievable but morbid.
I'm suffering from monroeic syndrome again.
I'd say t's the most challenging state of my sanity this year.
A totally different from my diva-ish moments or the 2-year old mid-20s crisis cycle.
I exhausted myself with lots of contemplation for the past 47 hours,
I'm still strucked of the thought dying in my sleep.
The idea of death does not terrify me but the sense of dying plainly scares the hell out of me.
I just couldn't allow it.
I have sworn that I'll be dead by 36,
that's 12 years from now,
and it has to be a graceful death no matter what it takes.
But right now,
I'm petrified.
Maybe,
it's the illusion of the ghoul from my dream.
Or maybe,
it's the ugly truth that I'm not yet ready to pose for my wake.
A cliche.
Death is unpredictable.
Achievable but morbid.
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