Hyde Park, London, 2022 My life could be falling apart, but I couldn’t realise it, or I’m not trying to face it intentionally because it’s fearful. Terrifying to see I am not doing it right. Falling apart is, though, not an end. It’s one state of life. Painful but saying to myself that it’s natural. Natural to feel pain because you are alive. It’s one human condition we always have to deal with. If not alive, everything would be numb. Nothing to feel. No sensation or perception. “At peace” is a euphemism for death but the term could have been conjured in view of the others. Death could not simply be a peace for the dead, I suppose. Death is discontinuation. The very End. Some religions promise a life after death, but we don’t know it until we actually die. It’s never known until we open the box (or close the box, our coffin box). My self-worth is dependent on whether I am writing good stories. My writing is directly connected to my self-esteem, and decides whether I would co...