carnations nom in the t2t vase, four stems 051129 ... ovenbird You don’t want to die, it’s not that at all. You want to live. But not in this body. Not in constant pain so that every feeble smile comes at an excruciating cost. There will come a day when agony eats your last laugh and then you will let doctors ease you from this earth before you know what it’s like to be old. Every day you’re finding_a_way_to_live while finding_a_way_to_die. You go to sleep at night gazing at the corsage of pink carnations Death slipped around your wrist when he first asked you to dance. He’s a solemn and patient suitor, and you know that eventually you’ll succumb to his advances and let him take you home. He’ll carry you across the threshold like a bride, he’ll kiss your face, he’ll lay your body down and take away your pain. He made you a promise. And unlike Life, who promised you a future, he will keep it. 250824 what's it to you? who go blather from