When you sleep it’s death of time for a while-when you are dead it’s time entwined eternally

She knew death temporarily-waking up after her hip operation-a knee operation-a broken pelvis-she was knocked unconscious at least 5 times.

She also knew she was booked for a 2nd hip op in June.

She had been in oblivion a place no one knows but being there is silence. It’s not categorisible it’s beyond comprehension and human knowing-somewhere but where is where-a black hole a subsumption of all external and informational-it is unknown.

Why do people fear death it can’t be bad or good it is silence.

And it certainly cannot be worse than this hell hole she thought.

14 long years here-what exactly was her purpose did she need 1 no-did she have one no-pulled and pushed-force fed-depressed-oppressed-suppressed-rightless-voiceless-ignored-afraid.


Hello Mercy, my friend have you come for me?


Nearer my God to Thee-silently praying in votive adoration-wishing-hoping for Divine Intervention and expiration

When it came to be Nearer to God and the chips were down-others clung on vice like to the old trunk-like larva to a leaf nothing could rip them-him-her off not even hurricane Jim.

She was 91, 92 next month.

Sometimes you would wonder what do grown elderly adults of elder parents want. You’re an adult of 58 years of age maybe married maybe not have children maybe not-but the attachment to this trunk is like a vine wrapped and clinging for dear life.

The time had come-clear darkness and peace forever-the souls’ sanctuary. The flow of energy now drifting off slowly-breath slipping back into the throat and getting caught.

At deaths door. Let me in-let me in she cried in her cortex.

She asked for this moment for many years-how tired she was-how utterly tired of living-everyday waking to that smell-that indescribable scent of death.

“Good Morning”, the blue coated black woman said.

“Why am I still here”, she thought.

Sweet Jesus why am I burdened with this forever life-this never-ending pill popping-needle injecting-hospital attending-doctor fussing God damn life.

What can I do-what did I do or not do that I’m here-still here for others to gawp at and preen me for a day ahead with other decaying beings.

No, you didn’t ask to be born but you were.

You made the best of it.

A beginning-middle-end.

But life is not an ever-ending process-life is to die.

Life Death Freedom

And the business of dying is not allowed as it is a business.

Life and its never-ending extension is now a business. These things don’t happen out of altruism or empathy or compassion all the buzz words.

No, this American dream of never-ending life is about money-jobs-control and the consuming of another at all costs.