I don’t know what to say, but thank you my friend, who immediately respond to my writings. I am still here, alive, taking my breath slowly and absorbing things I see and hear.
I’m all right, mi amigo de España!!!
What has life left for me?
–A question that bewilders me recently.
I seem to feel the fright before death. I don’t wanna frighten you, my dear friend. It’s really not an ominous signal or anything. One of the many reasons that I love Emily Dickinson’s poetry is she could describe death so beautifully. Really, I admire her talent. I didn’t wanna mention the accidents happened recently in my space but I guess the present tragic traffic crashes have awaken my recognition of death. Whenever I was inside a cab or bus, passing by a huge loaded truck, I was aware of the danger of being crushed or squashed. Last night I happened to tell my friend that my strong empathy had taken me to the real cases happened recently, especially the one happened in close vicinity to my company. That was really a nightmare!!!
I don’t think I am haunted by the innocent spirits but I believe there are these kind of people who can connect with the spirits which haven’t realized their last wills, pretty much like Whoopi Goldberg’s job in the flick "Ghost." The world is full of mysteries. Nobody can be sure about the answers, answers like why God exists with me, who controls fate, the myth of the Bermuda delta and so on and so forth.
I said to my friend that, luckily I had those two major stitiches surgeries when I was younger, when I was not yet fully aware of what was going on in the world. If it happened now, I would be darn fearful and have second thoughts. For an adult, we have taken in many things day by day; the more we know about what’s going on, the more frightened or reluctance to leave when we are on the verge of living and death. A little kid wouldn’t remember what happened years later after a surgery; while an adult would take the scar as a reminder of that life period. We all have fear but to different degree and at different situation.
I told my friend that I really could sense that panic before death if not dying painlessly in peace. His face suddenly changed color. See, that’s what’d happen–when I talk weirdly, friends all run away from me. 🙂 Perhaps I am really an odd kid with six senses probably.
Anyway, I stop talking "nonsenses." As long as I don’t dwell on finding out the depth of that thought, I am fine. I don’t wanna drive my friends in some sort of panic. Mea culpa!
I am all right, after getting these sentiments out of my chest. Muchas gracias for your concern, mi amigo de España. (Por favor my lame Español. 🙂 It’s ironic that I’ve never been taught how to type/write Spanish but speaking and reading.