I have thought about death more often than I believe the average person does. I do not claim to know the thoughts of an ordinary person, but I am not an ordinary person.
Most say that ordinary cannot be defined, that “normal” is just a word, and most people don’t fit it. What one might think is “normal” is another person’s “insane.” Either way, I’ve always known that something in my mind is broken or perhaps shifted at a different angle.
I don’t think about death in the way of contemplating my existence, though I do have my fair share of existential crises. I have accepted that death is a part of life: an avoidable cost, the true price of living.
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