Zmote on the Pen

 There are certain crossroads in life, where one stops and looks around. And sometimes, one dares to look back. The man in the mirror has changed... like thawing snow in the aftermath of winter, white patches of hair decorate this new landscape. The body ages, the soul grows older... energy fades. The old ones did not say without merit: "With one foot in the grave". Death doesn't seem as far away as it used to. One can feel the decay, the smell of dirt becomes more familiar... everything feels... final.  But with age, there are certain things that improve as well. The relationship with eternal sleep improves, fear makes way to numbness.  Come and take me, o death, free me from this mortal coil. I catch myself whispering in the depths of despair and hopelessness.  Take from me this burden of failure, of disappointment; return me to the Void, forever forgotten; a calm deep free of thought, care... existence. Decent into nihilism becomes easier: "Let the world burn, wha...