Sometimes death scares me, othertimes it doesn't. More worried about dying unfullfilled, I'd be extremely unhappy to die now, yet also strangely relieved. If it was for a worthy cause like saving a child or friend, I'd go knowing that I mattered. I'm disturbed to realise than in recent months my fantasies have changed from acheiving success to recklessly risking my life and not always coming out on top.
I've heard of no afterlives that are remotely enticing, except for one proposed by a friend in which she and I travel the universe in the TARDIS. It ticks all the right boxes.
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