Doubt's End

Before I begin I would like to make it perfectly clear that the following is not a 'death wish' or whatever it might sound to those of a feint heart. They are simply (or not so simple) more of my open ramblings on the final grace that is death. Taboo to most but that is a pebble for you to swallow. Continue...


Doubt's End

Without wishing to worry readers too much, or be too morbid (which is my natural playground), these last few days I have touched (again) the mortal walls of my being and a few times imagined I was about to collapse and check out at any second. As per usual they have occurred in the early hours of the morning, death's favoured domain. Blame lies soley on my diet and lifestyle of course but at 41 I have very little desire to alter it, begging for a few more years in exchange for lettuce leaves and quiet nights. But enough on that, this isn't the reason I decided to smash my fingers on the keyboard today and roll my bones (and they will fall wherever they please not matter how soft or hard I throw the dice.)
I only want to say again that I am at complete peace however near (or far) the End (capital E) might be. I am almost convinced I will not be seeing a grand old age and this is fine, I am at no panic over it. Not for I the running blindly like a headless spook, trying vainly to scupper the mechanics of death. That is not how I want this soul to leave its bloated and satisfied shell. Of course it is not an easy task giving up ones life, and lungs will not quit and fold away like obedient puppies but when it finally arrives I expect my body to surrended to death with as little struggle as humanly possible. Afterall it is no stranger to me. I have lived under the spectral hood for many years due to my destructive habits and I almost feel at home within walls of sickness.
Sometimes when I touch certain areas of my body, I can almost feel quiet pangs and tender spots as if I could almost poke a hole through my skin. Now I might be being slightly over dramatic here but when im in my gargoyle state and riding the sombre waves of deep night where even owls dare not go, it isn't dramatic at all. Its extremely real and at any moment I expect the human bands to snap and plunge my spirit into eternity. A curious feeling to be trapped between in limbe, and that is what it is because when I experience these moments I don't feel part of neither life or death. I am on a 'step', never knowing where the next breath will take me.
Little point in putting down the foamy glass and steak because I would feel this way if I was monk living on fruit, water and prayer. Fate cannot be avoided, it is not a knight to be side-stepped as its lance points to your beating chest like a falcon gunning for rabbit. Ones habits and addictions matter not in the great circus and its not the oils of excess which kill a man but lack of energy in the human spark that strikes off the raging flint. We are clockwork. Mechanical soldiers marching in a world that Gods have long since sacked and when I am alone in the wrath of darkness I can feel it all unravel within. My eyes dim like a tired soul, my jaw throbs from the weight of prophecy and thighs aflame from lacy, gothic thoughts.