Last night, some dark hour early in the morning, which was by my clock somewhere in the early afternoon, I was awake reading Dracula, when, from out of nowhere, I began to wonder what it would be like if I died or commited suicide. I couldn't help but think of the people who would cry for me if it happened.

Then I realized how large the number of people who would cry for me would be. I'm tearing up just thinking about it. It was a good feeling, but a strange one. I felt appreciated, loved, and a number of similar things. It was overwhelming. I started crying at my own funeral.

Then I imagined my younger brother, and how much he would cry. I couldn't handle it. Thinking how much he cried for my uncle's death then my grandpop's, and he didn't even see them every day. My heart's overflowing right now.

Then I started thinking about the things I'd leave unfinished. Sure, very little of it would actually have been important, but just thinking about my role-players, even. They would never know how the story ends, and it's a story of my own that I love very much.

I'm not sure what else to write, and I'm feeling a bit confused, so I'll stop here. Thoughts and feelings and all that welcome, of course.

TalkingDog