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The Life of Death

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Death has stared me in the face. It's cackle was that of a joker and it kept telling me the negatives that envelop my personality. I had been in existence for so long that I wasn't even alive. Weekends at home. Hearing the blissful chatter of life outside made me colorblind to the point where I saw everything in grey. Conversations with death amused me, though. He had a lot to say about the wonders of death and the freedom it causes. It then dawned on me, it's probably that one moment in life where you truly feel free that causes the gaping hole in your life to be sealed away for the rest of your souls existence. I knew what I dreamed of. I just didn't know how to achieve it. Live life people. Figure out a way to feel free. Anti-socialism is the biggest threat to society because the containment in our own mind is a poison. The thought of only rationalizing with our own ideas brings a chill to my bone. Conversation is an art form that must be developed further. Texting hasn't helped that art form evolve. Now after all you've learned about freedom, you notice the face of death growing with flesh and skin attached to the skull that fears the wisdom we all hide in the cascades of our subconscious.



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