On Death (A Confrontation)

This morning, I woke up at 5:00 with the intent to reflect. I've noticed that, increasingly, I've alienated a lot of brilliant and caring people. There could be lots of reasons for this, but I think terror is a big piece of the puzzle. I'm scared to be honest with other people about how scared I am myself.

Thus, my dumb big Internet confession: I am so uncomfortable with mortality that I'm flailing to confront my own goals and ambitions--which is to say nothing of my relationships. I'm genuinely remorseful for all of the wonderful friendships that have slipped through my fingers, and grateful for the ones who put up with my bullshit. If I made you feel neglected, I am sorry for that most of all. I have felt paralyzed into inaction since I moved back to Kansas City, and am fighting to once again recognize my own capability.

Does anyone else constantly think about these things? How do you reconcile the inevitability of an ending with the potential of a present? How have you recovered from loss? If you have thoughts to share, I'd love to hear them via email, comment, the little "contact" sidebar on this blog, smoke signal, telegram, or any other nearly-outdated form of communication. Let's have a conversation.

I'm perfectly safe and well this morning. I'm sure I'll regret this post as soon as I hit "Publish," but I've also been raised to believe in unflinching honesty.

This morning, I focus anew on my present.

Thank you. Much love to you, reader.