Another one of those days where the world seems to lose its gravity and you're floating above ground, trying to fathom the unfathomable. Death. Once you acknowledge it, it consumes you. It'll rob you of all thought and leave you to swim in its vast, unending sea of mystery and fright. To experience death; to understand... to acknowledge and accept that there is simply nothing beyond our short life. Simply nothing. Not even thought. Not the slightest. It's so frustrating... and haunting. It haunts me in my sleep, and in my wake; the anything and everything that will happen in the universe that I shan't experience following my death; it's so frightening.

It's that feeling of going to bed at night, closing your eyes, as if waking up again was a given... as if it was promised. But it isn't, and in this lifetime, it will never be. And like most nights, the lack of a dream goes unnoticed; opening your eyes reveals a new day-- a new dawn. The time in between completely lost. It felt like a second, but it wasn't. You'd been asleep for several hours, but it is only until you've thought about it that you realise the period between shut eye and rising was nothing. Not white, not black; describing that nothingness is almost impossible. It's a void of nothing. And it's what we'll experience after life... for all eternity. Nothing at all, for all the years and centuries and millenniums of the unfolding of the events of the universe, you will only have lived in a small portion of it-- a speck of dust in the ever grand design of our existence and the existence of other living creatures. But you will take to the grave only what you've experienced and learned in your life time and the knowledge you've obtained of your ancestors-- you will take it all to the void of nothing. And it is unrelenting. It does not care who you are; you are nothing. Everything will continue, and you will not.

And the nerve of some people to say not to fear death.