there are moments in everyone's life when one feels life is, well, downright crummy. When all hope is lost, when despair washes over the body, when even breathing appears to an exercise in futility. Every second passes as heavy as walking with feet firmly entrenched in buckets of cement. It is at times like these that one tends to notice the allure of the netherworld, the enticing dream of eternal sleep, the almost captivating brilliance of darkness beyond. It is not a suicidal fascination - just a thought, the idea of...disconnection. A hypothetical reality, conjured up to perhaps muffle and silence the obscene sounds of life, to create an illusion of non-existence, to drown in the mirage itself. It is therapeutic, not because it improves our appreciation of life(in the way that cold makes us appreciate the warmth), which it doesn't, but because of the expectation, the anticipation of that reward waiting for us in the future. Is it possible to lead life this way, life as a means to attain death? could we possibly go to work, raise a family, and run through our daily routine, with the comforting prospect of a blissful afterlife resting peacefully at the back of our heads, because of the comforting prospect?
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