Why must I hold onto my life? I think of death daily. It clouds my mind to what ill acts could happen to me. Or what I could do to myself. A dance near death, in my mind no one knows I’m on a tightrope. Depression. Anxiety. Suicidal. Pity. Why must I think differently? Not attached to others around me, I close off and lock myself away inside my mind. Trying to distract my mortality with media. It is not me who is suicidal, but the world! Circulating in an endless cycle of apathy, the sound of ever-present death is silent to all. It surrounds us. Every crack and crevice, in the shadows and in the light of day. To not notice our fragility is absurdity.