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.