The end is near.
I can feel it like a cold wind carrying the rattles of what’s to come.
Whatever form it decides to take, I am ready for it.
It has been far too long since I’ve felt anything this real, there’s no way I am turning my back on it. After all, the greatest honour men covet is to meet their end face to face.
For too long we’ve been robbed of that dignity.
Too many have died face down in the mud.
We spend our entire lives running from this, staying just far enough away so we don’t feel the electric tingle of its proximity. The lucky ones, the ones ready to face it, they die on their feet, and I’ve never planned on doing it any other way.
Lucky or not, I’ve earned this much.
I owe it to myself to stop running and do what needs to be done.
The hardest part has been coming this far, coming to the point where I can see with no doubt, how pointless this is.
I’ve been fighting for so long, it is all I know, the idea of giving up has been so impossible.
This isn’t about what I want anymore.
I’m ok with that.
So I plan on doing something about it.
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