but two more hours to go, and im done.

i can return to my bed and pretend to nap.

no. wait. i can return and look at the stuff i need to prepare and do and everything for tomorrow. and then fall asleep.

i dont want to die in my sleep. ive never wanted to die in my sleep.

i want to be awake, standing, living, and then just die.

i want to see my death coming.

i dont want to die of old age. i dont want to die in a hospital.

if i get struck with something, some disease or illness, i dont want to spend my last months on a hospital bed.

i want to, if i have this disease, spend the last months free and outside and with people and not with them.

grass. i love grass. i love the way it is when its cut.

i can imagine a heaven being nothing but miles of rolling hills and dips and turns and twists covered with grass.

fresh mowed.

and i would spend eternity with a hand huge enough to travel the miles and feel the hills and dips and turns and twists.

when someone tells me they're allergic to grass, to fresh mowed grass, to any grass... i feel so damn sad for them.

when i was young, not older than ten, i would watch my parents mow their yard. i begged and begged to mow.

the dad told me no, that when i got older i would never want to mow, i might as well be free of it as i was.

i couldnt believe that. not wanting to be out there, mowing... never...

and i told them this, time and time again. so before i was really big enough to see over the top of the mower i got the chance to mow a strip or two.

and then i could mow half the back yard.

and then, then i was mowing the back yard, the front yard.

and still, to this day, i love mowing.

i love the sweat, i love the silence it brings.

it does bring silence. the mower drowns everything around you. you get lost inside your head.

its silent.

its physical.

most of all, however, when youre done you can turn around and see the dent youve made, you can see the blanket that the earth produces.

i want to always approach the earth as i would any female. always in awe of the beauty and power they contain, always wanting to run my hands over their curves, always smelling their aromas and having a part of me melt.

always.

ah me.

time to eat lunch yo.