(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2007 10:01 amWhenever I see someone sleeping, I watch for a few moments to make sure they're breathing, that they didn't die in their sleep.
I've been realizing lately that I am (and always have been) obsessed with death--not in the Goth sense but in a "being very aware of mortality" sense. Since I was a little girl I've thought often about how old each of my grandparents was when s/he died, and it surprised me recently to find out that my mother doesn't carry those figures around at the top of her head to pull down for quick reference.
I think I'm gradually breaking out of the whole "life is a ticking time bomb counting down to the moments that I'll be unable to do the things I want to do" mentality. It's been neither an inspiring nor motiving modus operandi, perhaps surprisingly.
I've been realizing lately that I am (and always have been) obsessed with death--not in the Goth sense but in a "being very aware of mortality" sense. Since I was a little girl I've thought often about how old each of my grandparents was when s/he died, and it surprised me recently to find out that my mother doesn't carry those figures around at the top of her head to pull down for quick reference.
I think I'm gradually breaking out of the whole "life is a ticking time bomb counting down to the moments that I'll be unable to do the things I want to do" mentality. It's been neither an inspiring nor motiving modus operandi, perhaps surprisingly.