A Letter to Myself on My Deathbed
Perhaps awareness of one’s mortality is the first spark of self-loathing
Published in
2 min readAug 5, 2019
As a child I feared you, fear as cold and hard as a stone from the river. I imagined your frailty as something monstrous, something otherworldly. All rotten gums and cavernous wrinkles, you were ruin and disaster, the vandal from the gloomy future come to slowly leech my essence, the…
