I have been wrestling with the realization of my own mortality. Death comes. inevitably. and I don't know when the when or how but it is starting to finally apply to me. that I'm already in line and waiting my turn to dance with the reaper. from my journal--
"cruising up on 35. thirty ######6 five. and what do I have to show for it? for my life? all my turmoil and struggles and pain and sorrow? each choice. each victory. every failure and defeat has led to this cocktail of circumstance I call my life and why? for what?
it feels meaningless.
a life without purpose.
a life without direction.
a life half-lived
half forgotten
half whole.
my half life. but even that notion takes for granted that I will make it to 70! will I? so many don't. what if this is not my half life? what if it is my 3/4 life? or 90% of my life?
what if I have already lived my life and I just don't know it yet?"