And I'm starting to wonder if it'll ever go away, while secretly knowing it never will.

What I'm freaking out about is a horrible, dispicable little thing called mortality.

One should never be forced to attempt to comprehend the possibility of their own nonexsistence.

I try and not let things get to me. I find pride in the way I cover my emotions up.

But this is so overwhelmingly terrifying...I feel like I'm being smothered by fear, devoured by my own obliterating speculation.

Oii vey.

This isn't going to go away, is it?

Not until I convince myself in Heaven or some comforting afterlife.

Or, you know...until I die.

Heh. How's that for irony?