I had gone out
running five miles a couple days ago.
Then jumped on the softball diamond. Finished up a chapter in The
Self-Portrait, and was working on some artwork.
I realized how happy I was and wondered if I actually fully comprehend
the finality of death.
I know it is
coming. I know it is coming soon. And I have no beliefs in afterlives. Death is the end, and I am really enjoying
living.
How can I be
happy and not fretting about what I expect will come in only a few months? Do I not fully comprehend death?
This puzzles the
hell out of me.
I was able to get
in a slow five mile run on a very hot morning, then call the parents. The latter is always a real pick-me-up. Great to talk to them.
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