"It is when considering the concept of eternity that I become most frightened: to live without that which I am missing in the present alone seems just bearable, but the prospect of surviving within a void through decades, as bones wear and ideals abandon, beside fruitless and failing attempts to recapture that which I know, in the honest present, to be forever lost... There lies the root of all my fears.

I am afraid of a prophecy, of a fortune not terrible and hardly extraordinary, but a life from which I lack the tools to escape and the courage to describe: lackluster, and vanilla. I do not fear the irrational, the useless, the tomorrow; mortality hangs over and suffocates the precious internal fibers of hope and lust and joy, and stains my every footstep with its clammy presence of light and dark.

I fear the future that is created within my every waking moment and cemented by hourglass ghosts; I am terrified that my past will become an abyss, and not worth remembering."