oh dear god this is something that really scares me. i know we all must do it but i havent come to terms with it yet. i wish i could meet death as a person when its my time to go so it could feel easier. im still scared
Sonja
I’m afraid of it. I don’t know what happens after. it makes me afraid but i keep my beliefs that there is something bigger than us. there has to be. souls dont just leave
lola rose
his chest
there’s
there’s something on his chest he can’t breathe
something on his
his fingers fly to his throat, clawing at the invisible hand constricting it
but he can’t
can’t get it to
let
g o
ephemeral
the thought of dying is terrifying yet beautiful like a dancer spinning across the floor for the last time under those lime lights and the lights suddenly go off and she hurls her body in midst of her sudden off-turn, and then she lies on the floor below the light, consumed by her unfinished desires, the rhythm of the unfinished dance flutters in the hearts off the stage and gosh don’t we all wish the lights to go off after the perfect turns and perfect endings, if the lights must go off at all.
cissim
I feel best at the dying of the night, the sun cresting, the moon retreating, the scent of a new day.
Dying is just a word the living use to describe the unknown fate of when they no longer function in the same body.
Meiun
Their affection towards each other was dying and they’re both ok with it. They thought that maybe the mutual feelings they had was just a spur of a moment they were both caught with. Falling in love was easy, falling out of it–they thought– was surprisingly easier.
People die voluntarily or involuntarily, suicide or of disease or old age.
Where do people actually go after death? Heaven? Do they reincarnate?
The moment you die, what actually happens?
Life will indefinitely lead to death: The moment you are born, you’re destined to die, unfortunately
xi wenhan
People will definitely die
People do not necessarily die in some people eyes, bringing in the fact about religion and faith.
What happens after death, reincarnation? what!
How do people die, disease, old age, accidents
Life will definitely lead to death
Xi Wenhan
With my hand shaking as I writhed and moaned, I wrote my last few words on the paper. The zombie virus slowly coursed through my veins as I managed to pen down my final words.
“… Make me your test subject so I can help people. As a protector, let me fulfill my final duty to my friends and family.”
I addressed it to my best friend, a lab scientist, and sighed as I felt the light in my eyes go out.
Christina
“No, my dear. I…I’m dying. There’s nothing you can do. But remember this.” Mother pressed her hand to my heart. “I loved you, so much.”
And with that, she faded into the black oblivion of death.
I lay on the forest floor with wolves eating my flesh. My cries for help do not reach the ears of any who can help. I know that my life will end here, I realize that I am dying. I close my eyes in a deep slumber.
the child asked his father about the picture in the barber shop. “Why is his hair red?” “Because it’s dyed.” “It died?” The child sits back and ponders the dilemma, exhales with the gravitas only a four-year-old can have, and commits: “I’ll do it.”
The burning sensation I’m feeling on my chest is slowly intensifying up to a point that it’s beginning to get painful. This was the side effect of the medication; my vision is starting to blur, my limbs almost non-functional close to being paralyzed, and my breathing heavier and desperate for air. I never thought that prolonging your life also meant feeling like dying.
The roses are dying and Danny Boy runs through my head when I think about it. What a song to set the mood for the day. Not fun.
Sixty seconds is a long time to write about dying and it isn’t really a thrilling or uplifting topic. Unless you’re thinking of the neighbors lawn which is grossly over managed.
dying. can’t say I like the idea. at all. I guess it depends on life at the moment.
sarah
Dying must be the worst. or maybe it’s the best? I guess we don’t really know huh? But everyone will eventually find out. Exciting and scary.
sarah
Sweat rolls down between my shoulder blades and it tingles, but I don’t dare to move. If I move even one inch, the truth will reveal itself and I’ll have to face it. And there is nothing that can force me to do something like that.
Across the room, my brother reclines in the bathtub and I swear I hear him sigh at my dilemma.
Except he can’t, can he? Sigh anymore, I mean?
And I try to forget that thought as soon as I have it because it’s just a disguise for the truth I can’t accept.
Sneaky. The truth. And persistent.
My brother says I’m being stubborn and I laugh a little. The razor blade he’s dropped on the floor glints a little and distracts me for what seems like ages. (Shiny.)
Then, our parents arrive and they ruin everything by yelling words that sound like truth.
My brother asks why I’m crying and I’m not sure how to answer, but I know it’s all his fault.
Holy fuck I can’t believe that was the word that was generated for me dying is always happening but its deeply intertwined with life because as you grow the old must die but as the old dies that is the new growing. They aren’t even separate things, they are just two different words for like the different sides of a wave crashing. The underside and the overside. Woah I just tricked the system to let me keep going that was pretty strange, kind of like death you will feel like you are tricking the system like so many times of de ja vu and daydreaming before now it will feel when you are dying like something is not there but you will still be there. That is all. No! I messed up again so now all I really have to tell you is that the most prevalent thought I have about dying is T.S. Elliot’s The Wasteland. Remember the part where they talk about all the poppies that grew in Europe after the war because the bombs cleared out enough trees to let enough sunlight on the ground so that that particular plant could grow.
Hallie Hayes
There is nothing
more painful
and beautiful
than the moth
on the branch
We have kept a quiet watch
on the gentle snow
of two years
and
worry no more
A
“We spent every morning talking about what she ate for breakfast. We thought about what we would do if we had the guts to tell our parents about us. We would have bought a house in Vermont complete with an apple orchard.”
Kavisha Prajapati
Dying. We all think we understand the process of death but do we really? Every adult is aware of birth, life, and death, but somehow I disbelieve that we truly comprehend the meaning. We will die. We are all dying, some more slowly than others.
ugh . . . my biggest fear. My father just died a few months ago, and all I could think about was my children, my darling little girls, losing people they love. And how unfair it all is. And what a mind f*ck it all is. Life, death, moving forward. God, I miss him.
i’ts so bloody hot in here, agnes. can’t you do something about that?
shut the windows, marge. don’t you know what time it is.?
it’s time for wheel of fortune ain’t it?
no, it’s time for spencer tracy. he’s a hunk isn’t he?
i thought that guy died a long time ago.
agnes?
A.C. Cooper
I leave my family back at home because I do not wish for them to see me like this. The last breaths that I take will be for me alone, and I do not wish for them to see them. The hole in my chest makes the pain that much worse. But hey.
she was dying. she felt it in her whole body, the straining in her heart and the ache in her bones. like falling through syrup. too slow but she knew it was coming and that made it all too fast. the tear that slipped out felt like warm honey. her hands felt cold. her tongue felt stiff. fuck.
jasper
I am sure we have all thought about it. Really, it is no secret at all. You can admit that at some point or another it has crossed your mind. Dying isn’t something you should joke about, nor is it something you should fear. Whether we admit it or not, death ultimately is a part of our existence. We die so that new life can follow us, learn from our mistakes, and make the world a better place.
Theresa
“Help me! Somebody help me!” He cried as he held his best friend in his arms.
“You have to make it. You have to stay strong for me. I’m not letting you die.” He kept repeating, to both himself and the body laying in his lap.
i can’t find your lips anywhere, but i lie awake at night imagining the warmth grazing along my neck like sun rays finding chilly goosebumps. every morning i forget what that feels like and move on with a day i don’t want to be responsible for. tears fall in sync with the sunset because it’s another end to another day and you are still not here.
When I really wanted to, I forgot how to die. I’d been dreaming of it for half of my life, and when it came down to it, I could only remember how to hang on.
people do it all the time even if they aren’t ready. it really just sucks, dying, like why is it a thing? I understand it though, all the reasons behind it. I mean I don’t want an overpopulated earth. and I don’t want to be 105 and still living. that just sucks. ive never had anybody close to me die.
maggie
This is too much to really worry about at the moment. What can I do about the inevitable? Nothing as far as I can tell so far. Just live my life the best I can decipher, and attempt to perpetuate the happiness of those around me. Enjoy myself, while maybe trying to leave something worthwhile behind. Here’s hoping.
Ronald Alexander
The roses that I spent far too much money on are dying. One bush is barren and bug infested. The other three, the Doris Day roses are doing better but not by much. When will I learn to stop spending money on things I have no time for?
She laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe. He was laughing, but not as hard as she was. His laughter ebbed as he watched her laugh. “Oh, my god, that’s hilarious. Ugh. I want to die that’s so funny.” He looked at her the way one looks at a sunset; something he could never fully describe nor capture.
I want to get up. I wanted to get up badly. I stared upward at the ceiling, which seemed to bend and dip and curve with each slow drop and laborious rise of my eyelids. This was no ceiling. This was an all-consuming plaster maw, its lips snapping for sustenance as it swelled toward me, ready to snap my soul up in its weary jaws.
I was dying. I knew that now. My hand kept twitching against my stomach where the pain first began. Now the flame was in my chest, and it was burning, deep into my weathered ribcage, so battered after so many long and dreary years.
Belinda Roddie
asleep and awake
incoming or outgoing
we are or we aren’t
defining the vastness
of things that aren’t things
which extend past our reach
oh dear god this is something that really scares me. i know we all must do it but i havent come to terms with it yet. i wish i could meet death as a person when its my time to go so it could feel easier. im still scared
I’m afraid of it. I don’t know what happens after. it makes me afraid but i keep my beliefs that there is something bigger than us. there has to be. souls dont just leave
his chest
there’s
there’s something on his chest he can’t breathe
something on his
his fingers fly to his throat, clawing at the invisible hand constricting it
but he can’t
can’t get it to
let
g o
the thought of dying is terrifying yet beautiful like a dancer spinning across the floor for the last time under those lime lights and the lights suddenly go off and she hurls her body in midst of her sudden off-turn, and then she lies on the floor below the light, consumed by her unfinished desires, the rhythm of the unfinished dance flutters in the hearts off the stage and gosh don’t we all wish the lights to go off after the perfect turns and perfect endings, if the lights must go off at all.
I feel best at the dying of the night, the sun cresting, the moon retreating, the scent of a new day.
Dying is just a word the living use to describe the unknown fate of when they no longer function in the same body.
Their affection towards each other was dying and they’re both ok with it. They thought that maybe the mutual feelings they had was just a spur of a moment they were both caught with. Falling in love was easy, falling out of it–they thought– was surprisingly easier.
People die voluntarily or involuntarily, suicide or of disease or old age.
Where do people actually go after death? Heaven? Do they reincarnate?
The moment you die, what actually happens?
Life will indefinitely lead to death: The moment you are born, you’re destined to die, unfortunately
People will definitely die
People do not necessarily die in some people eyes, bringing in the fact about religion and faith.
What happens after death, reincarnation? what!
How do people die, disease, old age, accidents
Life will definitely lead to death
With my hand shaking as I writhed and moaned, I wrote my last few words on the paper. The zombie virus slowly coursed through my veins as I managed to pen down my final words.
“… Make me your test subject so I can help people. As a protector, let me fulfill my final duty to my friends and family.”
I addressed it to my best friend, a lab scientist, and sighed as I felt the light in my eyes go out.
“No, my dear. I…I’m dying. There’s nothing you can do. But remember this.” Mother pressed her hand to my heart. “I loved you, so much.”
And with that, she faded into the black oblivion of death.
I lay on the forest floor with wolves eating my flesh. My cries for help do not reach the ears of any who can help. I know that my life will end here, I realize that I am dying. I close my eyes in a deep slumber.
the child asked his father about the picture in the barber shop. “Why is his hair red?” “Because it’s dyed.” “It died?” The child sits back and ponders the dilemma, exhales with the gravitas only a four-year-old can have, and commits: “I’ll do it.”
The burning sensation I’m feeling on my chest is slowly intensifying up to a point that it’s beginning to get painful. This was the side effect of the medication; my vision is starting to blur, my limbs almost non-functional close to being paralyzed, and my breathing heavier and desperate for air. I never thought that prolonging your life also meant feeling like dying.
I felt it every time I looked at you
When you smiled and me
And when you didn’t
The roses are dying and Danny Boy runs through my head when I think about it. What a song to set the mood for the day. Not fun.
Sixty seconds is a long time to write about dying and it isn’t really a thrilling or uplifting topic. Unless you’re thinking of the neighbors lawn which is grossly over managed.
what does it feel like? I’ve always wondered.
dying. can’t say I like the idea. at all. I guess it depends on life at the moment.
Dying must be the worst. or maybe it’s the best? I guess we don’t really know huh? But everyone will eventually find out. Exciting and scary.
Sweat rolls down between my shoulder blades and it tingles, but I don’t dare to move. If I move even one inch, the truth will reveal itself and I’ll have to face it. And there is nothing that can force me to do something like that.
Across the room, my brother reclines in the bathtub and I swear I hear him sigh at my dilemma.
Except he can’t, can he? Sigh anymore, I mean?
And I try to forget that thought as soon as I have it because it’s just a disguise for the truth I can’t accept.
Sneaky. The truth. And persistent.
My brother says I’m being stubborn and I laugh a little. The razor blade he’s dropped on the floor glints a little and distracts me for what seems like ages. (Shiny.)
Then, our parents arrive and they ruin everything by yelling words that sound like truth.
My brother asks why I’m crying and I’m not sure how to answer, but I know it’s all his fault.
Holy fuck I can’t believe that was the word that was generated for me dying is always happening but its deeply intertwined with life because as you grow the old must die but as the old dies that is the new growing. They aren’t even separate things, they are just two different words for like the different sides of a wave crashing. The underside and the overside. Woah I just tricked the system to let me keep going that was pretty strange, kind of like death you will feel like you are tricking the system like so many times of de ja vu and daydreaming before now it will feel when you are dying like something is not there but you will still be there. That is all. No! I messed up again so now all I really have to tell you is that the most prevalent thought I have about dying is T.S. Elliot’s The Wasteland. Remember the part where they talk about all the poppies that grew in Europe after the war because the bombs cleared out enough trees to let enough sunlight on the ground so that that particular plant could grow.
There is nothing
more painful
and beautiful
than the moth
on the branch
We have kept a quiet watch
on the gentle snow
of two years
and
worry no more
“We spent every morning talking about what she ate for breakfast. We thought about what we would do if we had the guts to tell our parents about us. We would have bought a house in Vermont complete with an apple orchard.”
Dying. We all think we understand the process of death but do we really? Every adult is aware of birth, life, and death, but somehow I disbelieve that we truly comprehend the meaning. We will die. We are all dying, some more slowly than others.
ugh . . . my biggest fear. My father just died a few months ago, and all I could think about was my children, my darling little girls, losing people they love. And how unfair it all is. And what a mind f*ck it all is. Life, death, moving forward. God, I miss him.
i’ts so bloody hot in here, agnes. can’t you do something about that?
shut the windows, marge. don’t you know what time it is.?
it’s time for wheel of fortune ain’t it?
no, it’s time for spencer tracy. he’s a hunk isn’t he?
i thought that guy died a long time ago.
agnes?
I leave my family back at home because I do not wish for them to see me like this. The last breaths that I take will be for me alone, and I do not wish for them to see them. The hole in my chest makes the pain that much worse. But hey.
she was dying. she felt it in her whole body, the straining in her heart and the ache in her bones. like falling through syrup. too slow but she knew it was coming and that made it all too fast. the tear that slipped out felt like warm honey. her hands felt cold. her tongue felt stiff. fuck.
I am sure we have all thought about it. Really, it is no secret at all. You can admit that at some point or another it has crossed your mind. Dying isn’t something you should joke about, nor is it something you should fear. Whether we admit it or not, death ultimately is a part of our existence. We die so that new life can follow us, learn from our mistakes, and make the world a better place.
“Help me! Somebody help me!” He cried as he held his best friend in his arms.
“You have to make it. You have to stay strong for me. I’m not letting you die.” He kept repeating, to both himself and the body laying in his lap.
i can’t find your lips anywhere, but i lie awake at night imagining the warmth grazing along my neck like sun rays finding chilly goosebumps. every morning i forget what that feels like and move on with a day i don’t want to be responsible for. tears fall in sync with the sunset because it’s another end to another day and you are still not here.
When I really wanted to, I forgot how to die. I’d been dreaming of it for half of my life, and when it came down to it, I could only remember how to hang on.
people do it all the time even if they aren’t ready. it really just sucks, dying, like why is it a thing? I understand it though, all the reasons behind it. I mean I don’t want an overpopulated earth. and I don’t want to be 105 and still living. that just sucks. ive never had anybody close to me die.
This is too much to really worry about at the moment. What can I do about the inevitable? Nothing as far as I can tell so far. Just live my life the best I can decipher, and attempt to perpetuate the happiness of those around me. Enjoy myself, while maybe trying to leave something worthwhile behind. Here’s hoping.
The roses that I spent far too much money on are dying. One bush is barren and bug infested. The other three, the Doris Day roses are doing better but not by much. When will I learn to stop spending money on things I have no time for?
She laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe. He was laughing, but not as hard as she was. His laughter ebbed as he watched her laugh. “Oh, my god, that’s hilarious. Ugh. I want to die that’s so funny.” He looked at her the way one looks at a sunset; something he could never fully describe nor capture.
I want to get up. I wanted to get up badly. I stared upward at the ceiling, which seemed to bend and dip and curve with each slow drop and laborious rise of my eyelids. This was no ceiling. This was an all-consuming plaster maw, its lips snapping for sustenance as it swelled toward me, ready to snap my soul up in its weary jaws.
I was dying. I knew that now. My hand kept twitching against my stomach where the pain first began. Now the flame was in my chest, and it was burning, deep into my weathered ribcage, so battered after so many long and dreary years.
asleep and awake
incoming or outgoing
we are or we aren’t
defining the vastness
of things that aren’t things
which extend past our reach