what if

Maybe the way you want to see it is the way it will happen.
Maybe.

Absolutely petrified of the present, shaking for the future, reminiscing in the past. Not every memory lasts, but the ones you wish most to forget stick like glue, and those that make you amused leave you like they were nothing new. That's the funny thing about life and the way it works. You will always wish to seek happiness and a place with no fear, but once you reach it, it's nothing you expected. It kind of feels worthless, like once you get there, you need another change, something more, an alternate insanity. The infamous routines of humanity.
I used to be petrified of death and what it would bring. Would I linger onto the other side, with no rules I am forced to abide? Would I sing to birds in utter joy? Or would it all foil? I used to think death would surely be the end; death would surely be in question, death would be a sealed fate. I hated that of the unknown, and then I preached like I did know - like I had been shone inside a new light, a new life death would bring and surely I would be happy. It was a pleasent mask to wear, no flask I would call a necessity before my death, holding my heart in my hands steady, I would be ready for glory. But like always, there's two sides to the story, and I have reached the side where all else are blind and I must try to grasp the point, because you never know for sure what's next, what mess is to be cleaned or what this life does really mean.
Like happiness, you always remotely think of your wants, and if they are brought content is bought, for a price you paid with perfect ignorance. But there are always what-ifs, the doubts. Most of us can go our whole life without these, but that isn't the path for me. Questions always seep into my mind and no matter how hard I try, they never die. So when I am at the brink of happiness, I must stop and think. And so much as death, I questioned. What if, like happiness, we recieve but then all fails? When the grainy details set into place? Is there a face of death that shows? Or do we lay six feet under where the grass grows? Will you rot in it? Have you ever thought about it? That once you take that last breath, when death is met, do you think it could all end? And it's pure black, there's nothing more, no turning back? That we sit in a bore in our boxes, that we see nothing? No light, no higher might, no being contrite, no afterlife?
Have you ever thought about it? Do you resist the fear of it? That maybe the existence of soul is fake? That there is nothing to make but this vitality current? That we are doomed or forever endurant? Think about what you've wanted in the past. Once you believed it was all you need, then you recieve and still feel without. Did you feel that? That is doubt. Maybe doubt prepares for the 'later on', the phase where we all believe we'll be in a daze. Ignorance is a bitter bliss, if you're a cynic there's nothing you miss. Take a look at both sides of the book, you could if you tried; the 'after you died'. Then you decide.
Difficulty passes more in death than in birth,
Ask yourself if it's really the worth; the what-if.