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Life asked death: "Why do people love me but hate you"? Death responded: "Because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth".
I've felt the bitter, clammy touch of Death on more than one occasion; the affair being one that I solicited. I would spend most nights lying on the cold, hard floor pleading for Death's presence to greet me. Death's touch would soon approach, teasing me; giving me a small taste at times but never fully consuming me. In my desperate attempts at what I thought would lead to a beautiful tranquility, I would beg Death to take me away from this awful, malevolent place. To my disappointment I was always left where I lay to live another dreadful and depressing day; left with but a single question. "Why do people hate you"? That is one thing that I still do not understand. People fear and loathe the inevitability of death. While they plead mercifully that Death stay away, I got on my knees and I prayed to the good Lord for Death to take me. As the tears fell to the vodka stained floor beneath me I grew angry. I was angry with the Lord for cursing me with this pathetic life and I was angry with Death for not accepting me even when I begged for it. I was so very tired of the illusions of life that I shouted angrily at Death. It then took my face in it's hands and spoke to me solemnly as we discussed my undeniable uniqueness. Unique because others saw Death as the cold hand that takes from life whereas I saw it as my freedom. We spoke of the fantasy of life and all of its misconceptions. Death construed further and told me I need not take these youthful days for granted. Life is full of beautiful adventures and I should not be so eager to meet the painfully true end. I spat in Death's face at the hilarity of it's so called wisdom. I laughed as I told it that death isn't always painful and life sure as hell isn't always beautiful.