(no subject)
my hands and feet are numb and my nose is on fire and I'm flailing, failing, sailing upwards for air and I find it yet it is harsh and cold and hot at the same time and it hits my nostrils and throat like a thousand tiny daggers and I feel as though I'm being skinned from the inside out and i don't even care i just sit idly by and while away the time and time is forever never ending yet we are and we know it but we pretend not to because death is so unknown it happens to everybody and cycles through like the seasons but it's not really like that is it there's no way to explain death it just is and so am i and i'm cold and hot and dead and alive and there's no getting out in one piece i'll be broken into fragments of your imagination and the point is that there is no point to life and the paths it takes and the people it finds and the way it's lived is there
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