Who made up the rules? But that's an old, dumb question. not real. what are the traces?

I'm betting my life that it all rewinds and erases.

Begins anew.

I know I may sound distant. But I'm ready for that refresh.

Let it roll over. I can wait. But if it came now, ahh, what a gift.

Do I have the right to receive God's eternal graces?

I could write beauty in a single equation of quantum gravity
swallow imagination
reinvent truth

but you and I are just human. We all are.

I am sure I know nothing about love, but I'm sure I love in a singular way. I'm not entirely sure it is important, ultimately, but I will forever cling to the notion that it is the only valid element in my life. You know, there isn't really anything else. There isn't hate because hate is love. Love is love, love is everything. If you melted down the entire universe I think you'd only be left with love and nothing else, and from love, things grow.

Thoughts of death weigh me down, always present now, every day. It's hard to live when you're not thinking you're immortal anymore. Maybe I never thought that, at least not since I was kid, but when death's truth breathes her seductive incense up your nose that all changes. I'm haunted, the thought of my end sneaks into my thoughts every day, sometimes every hour, sometimes every minute. Even if I could give back my promise, I think I would still feel this way. I want to shake it, though. I really want to. I want to live like I'm alive, not like I'm preparing to die.

I feel that I want to live now more than ever.