Long Trip Home
19 Jan 2007
Last night I died on the operating table, I felt cold and there was no flash of light, no saint peter, nothing. I felt lonely, destroyed and wanting nothing more than my family and friends, prayed for reincarnation, and felt betrayed. Who am I to die? I wonder for a while what everyone taught me, and was angry for the lies and distance I kept from the world. Help was my last words as I spiralled down to my body and hit the brick my heart had become. It didn't take much to shake me from my soul.