My arms are stretched out before me, fingers reaching towards the green/blue marble in the distance and met with equal effort by the black tie floating out before my. My fingernails turn purple and the colour runs from my hands as the fresh paint on a canvas in the rain, all of this happens before me in a slo-motion that I thought improper of the situation known as death.

My mind ceases to wander as one might expect, focusing on no more than my final thoughts in this case known as a body, dreaming unwillingly

I look down upon the Earth, as life escapes me. The coldness of nothing embraces me. Oh the world and its woes beneath me… they seem so petty upon this pedestal.

(So this thing was just hanging out in my Drafts… might as well post it. Don’t remember what story this was from, but I like the way it sounded.)