It feels disappointing to know that this saggy and lumpy bed will be my deathbed in no time. I never imagined it would be this way; a cramped room I rented as a place I choose to die. The last memory that I carry to the afterlife (if it really does exist), is the picturesque small loving room. I polished it, turned it into a loving grace. I even put plants on every corner of it. I never really thought I would be a plant person the way my mother used to be.
Come to think of it, I would not mind to die here. It is my safe place after all. These walls have seen my worst moments, my greatest sins, even my gleeful days. Sometimes it sees me devoting my heart to the Almighty too. If it could, it would laugh, obviously. It is not like I do not believe in It. I just constantly questioning whether It is really there or not. But human hearts, when they are desperate to cry for help, uncertainty is the best answer for them. For life itself is never certain above all.
I should not have thoughts about these right now. These little things might make it even harder to leave. I sure do grow fond of this space. But not enough to stop me from leaving. Come to think of it, nothing and no one is never enough.
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