prolong

Lengthen and prolong, that would make a life and charcter, right?  Why not bursts,
I watch a man say farewell, fuck off, and shoot himself in the mouth out the back of his skull, brains and matter,
I think what matter?  Though haunting for reality, I think of films and scenes with porn stars that have died by suicide or of overdoses, even car crashes and murder and I think then, that is haunting to have jacked to a woman who will be dead in years, weeks, days to come, they are dead.
That is not reality, I knew no character, I imagined and felt away.
I tell myself stories of some fuck in a car or window, some asshole stranger at work, some nobody, they mean nothing, I think how they breathe and live with themselves and how they drive and sleep.
Death as each will end is an illustration on realms and space, where your death is seen as a caricature, some moronic vision of who we are.  We all do it.  There is no death that is seen clearly, no life that is known, we ourselves can't even find ourselves.  And is this what we live for, what we tell stories for, what we make plans for, to feel haunted by death?
Like it means anything.
Life for that matter -