one day i will be dead.

I delight in my sickness and ageing, those intimate reminders of my own mortality, of the nearness of the shadow's embrace, of permanent relief and escape from suffering, sorrow, this torment of existence. Are there things we would do before the end comes, are there things we want to do in life before death is upon us? Once perhaps, but no more ,no longer, we see now that the nature of existence is not just fleeting, but also
miasmic, where we stupidly and with futility strive for the unattainable, intoxicated by dreams of that which neither is nor will ever be. Happiness.