everyday, i ask myself, 'what are my chances of living for today?' the possibilities are inifinite &age is far from the question. everyday, i pray to God, 'please keep me alive until my kids are old enough to take care of themselves. thats all i ask for.'

the older i get, the more i begin to fear reality. the reality of living, the truth about death &the purpose for breathing. i have those few moments where i suddenly begin to think deeply into the meaning of living. past the peace i find in family, past the joy i surround myself with around friends & past the satisfaction i put in the little things i buy or own. when i take a glance beyond everything ive been blessed with, my heart unexpectedly feels two pounds heavier &i find myself lost on route sixty-six. im deserted on this straight road but when i look ahead of me at whats suppose to easy to describe, my mind views a labyrinth. i skip the plot and come up with my own conclusion that one hundred years from now, no one is going to be alive but what fears me is how each individual gets to the end and how near the end is.