As I come apart, remember less, know less, am less, my life isn’t flashing before me, it’s fading. I am a light out at sea. I am a star disappearing at dawn. I am trying to follow myself and I can’t. One thing is clear – whatever death is, it isn’t a continuation of self – myself – in the way I imagined my lived-life to be. Self seems like it’s a

All I want is to find a shadow somewhere and dissolve into it.

Then I was a relation between the heaters, the sky, and the blue gleam of the pool, and then I was gone, wasn’t anything at all, the darkest sky in North America.