I can’t help thinking how fragile life is, and how invincible we feel at times. Seeing my younger brother lying in a coffin really brought home how vulnerable we really are, and how precious life is, not just us to but to everyone around us. I’ve never really been scared of dying before, but now the thought of death is what keeps me awake every night, making me feel anxious and paranoid that something else bad is going to happen to me or someone close to me. I’m not scared of dying for myself but for the people who would be left behind. In my opinion death is the end, once you’re dead there’s no more pain or suffering for you, only for the living. And if I’m wrong and there is an afterlife, then there’s nothing to fear really, but of course we will never know the truth in this life. I hope I’m wrong, I’d love to see my brother again and put right all the mistakes I feel I made with him, and him with me. I’ll always regret not getting to know him better, and I want to give that message to others, to really appreciate your friends and family, because one day they may not be there and then you won’t be able to tell them all the things you wanted to. 




I actually miss when I used to be a little shit and my life just consisted of going to school, and then weekends spent in shisha bars, or getting stoned or drunk in the middle of the day, or going shoplifting with my friends just because we thought it was funny, and then getting caught, being arrested and never doing it again. I wish I didn’t have to grow up, can’t be bothered dealing with the pressures of real life. Fuck it I’m off to Neverland.