i'm not afraid of death. that is to say, i'm not necessarily concerned about the non-existence of myself. but as of late, the act of dying is consuming me. my body deteriorating, while simultaneously developing lumps and boils. my hair falls out. my teeth come loose. and gradually my breathing ceases to be. i'm everyday eaten away by a sense of impending doom. which sounds so simple. sounds like something someone stupid would fear. but most nights i spend some odd amount of hours reading all i can about disease. about my body. when i walk around i imagine coughing up my own epiglottis. my breasts may be small but that doesn't me they won't rot off. it stresses me to such a degree i end up smoking endlessly. wondering where the cancer will begin. maybe it would take months. or years. to die. i'm not afraid of any plane crash. but cervical cancer sounds so terrifying. i feel myself fighting the world, the flesh and the devil. and i do believe in the last especially because i hear him. right behind my left ear he's always talking. i know that all the horrible notions i have about myself are all seeded in his influence. he's figured out the things that cripple and everything that makes me fall down. he uses them against me. everyday, everyday he does this. and i want to cast out all these thoughts like demons into a fire. be rid of them and watch the trees instead. sometimes i remember that deep within my body is myself. and i feel safe. the solace always comes from singing.