Bloody Fingers, Broken Mind

D E A T H

I don't think I'm scared of dying.

I'm more scared of what comes after you die.

I was raised with the idea that something greater than anything I can know holds my fate and oblivion after I die.

Wherever I might end up is determined by my choices in this short life.

Choices in a life that passes like seconds makes up an eternity.

It's a scary thought. Because no matter how good of a person you think you might be or that you actually are—
it's nothing.

I was taught that your fate is decided on whether you blindly believe in something and follow that teaching or not.

But other than that, another thing I'm scared of after I die is that I won't be remembered.

People in my life have died and I remember them in ways that are so close to my heart.

So I'm scared that after I die I won't be remembered like that. I'm afraid people won't cry over me.

But why would I even want anyone to cry over my death? To feel like I impacted them or that they cared?
I guess.

But no matter what I believe or what's real or if I'm remembered, one thing is certain:

Death is inevitable.