As the elephants arrive.

I think about death the most during spring. I really hate that. Especially I right now in the season I'm thinking about and hating it. There's really nothing that can be done except for all of the minor attempts to make it stop. Fortunately I haven't had a full on panic attack because of it in a while, but it gets in the way of things sometimes. It's also strange to have a fresher view on things now. Now that I've experienced someone in my life passing away, and now that I've got more reason than ever to live right there in the palm of my hand [most of the time literally]. 
Toni has a bit to say about death in FIFTH OF JULY and I do my best every night to not let the backs of my ears scream, and the feeling of electricity enter my ribs and hair and neck. I have to keep doing, and moving, and making, and loving because if I don't my mind gets the best of me and I panic. I panic. Usually when I'm alone, but sometimes not. And if I'm not I have to prepare for the intense amount of awkward, because I don't want to talk about it.


"You can't worry about the stopping, you have to worry about the going on."