I didnt think twice about it til I had kids, but now I get these times -- I dont know if I consider them anxiety attacks, where I start thinking about how life is finite and every second I'm getting closer to it.


I wanna be around for as much of my kids' shit as I can....

Also not sure how much sense this makes (it makes sense in my head)
But then I also love living and being me -- if that makes any sense. I love my consciousness and the way I navigate this world. Like damn, is that shit just gonna stop one day? Then what?

This is my one life its amazing that Im here, but its gonna stop one day.

Then I get sad.