It's Sunny Here in Chicago and No One Knows What To Do
I don't know what to do. I'm at a loss. It's nearly 80 degrees Fahrenheit. It's Sunny. It's a Saturday in April. And I feel this immense pressure to be outside. And if I'm not outside I internally scold myself for not being outside. So, I go outside on my balcony to write. And I am immediately hit with strong winds and pollutant smells. And I'm uncomfortable. And unhappy.
...that few things scar and clarify the soul more than witnessing the death of your parent. If anything screams “YOU, TOO, WILL DIE” it is that experience. How you die becomes a choice but only once you’ve chosen how you live.