When death appears it is almost never welcome. A bone dry face smirking just behind you, or sometimes right to your face. It can infect you with ideas that seem to offer peace. This is not at all true. Untimely death is an atomic bomb. A pin unceremoniously pulled from a grenade in a moment of unscrupulous folly. Dumb, selfish, or sometimes simply unexpected. Death can be a black hole created by those who choose the escape hatch from life. A butterfly effect that can cause so many others to be drawn to the flame of oblivion.
In the wake of a black hole that has currently enveloped my friends I have found that there is a difference between a cry for help, and an empty promise made to draw in empathy. A cry for help means you want to live. An empty promise is for the drowning that refuse to move toward land or sink to the dark depths of the ocean.
If you throw out a life preserver and the drowning person pretends to try and grab it while continuing to flail about please do yourself a favor and walk away. This is not a cry for help. This is a game. One played by a person that has become infatuated with self loathing, and unhappiness. They wear these feelings like a warm blanket and want you to wallow in the mire with them. Do not join them. This is a sirens call to something worse than death. A limbo from which you may not return.
I for one refuse to be a mindless moth. A lemming that walks with the others towards the edge. A pale faced unmoved brick of a person that can not understand the ramifications of my own actions. I choose to punch death in the face and air guitar in my boxers! That seems like much more fun. Don’t you agree? If so please join me on this journey. A journey called life that always has a reset button, and powering off is never an option.
END?
Featured image is from a series of photos I took on the beach the day before winter went into full effect.
Horror Made 