I’m not sure what death is supposed to feel like, exactly. I’m also not really sure what you’re supposed to do when you die either. There’s tales of beautiful places like heaven, and monstrous nightmares about crappy, messed-up places like hell. But in the moment that I died, I experienced neither. I remember falling. Just the essence of mid flight, like I was jumping off of a tall cliff that had no bottom. I remember it smelling like fresh spring dew on green grass, and wonderful aromas of freshly grown wild berries and strawberries. Then i remember touching ground. I looked up and saw... nothing. nothing, but a computer screen and a keyboard. So i did the only thing i knew... I started writing about my life and all i had experienced.
   So understand, Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years. Face up... make your stand And realise you're living in the golden years.
   
For too long now, there were secrets in my mind-For too long now, there were things I should have said. In the darkness...i was stumbling for the door to find a reason - to find the time, the place, the hour. Waiting for the winter sun, and the cold light of day.The misty ghosts of childhood fears... the pressure is building, and I cant stay away...

I shall refract myself, yes, I shall no longer be known as the prism.