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Oct 2020
I’m scared of death
But not my own
I’m terrified of watching my parents’ faces turn unrecognizable with wrinkles
And their voices becoming that of old people
And then one day, they’re gone
I don’t sleep at night thinking of this
Being aware that everyone we love
Everyone we know
Will leave us eventually
And not necessarily in chronological order
And then I start thinking about a series I watched some months ago
The characters thought they’d died and gone to Heaven
But turns out, it was The Bad Place
And maybe we think we’re living on Earth
When in reality, this is The Bad Place
Isn’t losing everyone we love torture?
But then again, without sorrow there’d be no happiness
We’d be pretty unhappy being happy all the time
The unsolvable riddle
So are we in The Good Place or The Bad Place?
Or are there no “places”, and when we go it’s really the end?
But if we’re energy, we can’t be destroyed
Only transformed
Into what?
Dust? Ghosts?
Are we born again?
One thing is the physical body, another the soul
Our soul lives on forever, supposedly
So are we born again and again forever?
But isn’t forever too... infinite?
It must get tiresome to live a million lives
Again, that’s torture
It’s sad if we stop existing
But it’s sad if we exist forever, too
If that’s the case, maybe that’s why we don’t remember our previous lives
So we experience life for the first time every time
I guess that must be it
Helsy Flores
Written by
Helsy Flores  F/Mexico
       ---, Tabitha Lee, Jim Musics and leila
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