untitled (anxiety)

sometimes it's difficult to know just want to say.  i want to say something, that surely there must be something to say, but i'm at a loss.

all i can imagine is the fear and pain.  a greatness of fear and pain that erases any hope, any sense of survival.

have i ever mentioned my fear of confinement?  i've never found myself in an actually frightening situation of confinement or paralysis, but thinking about such a condition makes me feel cagey, makes me start to hyperventilate.  trapped under fallen rocks; pressed under a collapsed building; locked in, paralyzed like the writer of the diving bell and the butterfly; alien control of my body, my consciousness unwilling witness to my body's action: this is what i fear.

i have not suffered, but imaging what it must be like for a man or woman to face painful, inescapable death bears down on me.  no one deserves this.  and we, the living, not survivors but those kept in the security of our homes and routines, can do nothing but worry and try to sympathize, try to understand, though this is impossible.

and what do we take away from the loss of our loved ones from the world?  senselessness.  no program.  no plan.  death can just be senseless and we are left with the broken trajectory of someone's life, with all these expectations we had for a person.