An excerpt from a short story I wrote a while ago

In the swirl of things,there exists in tempestuous times such deliberate deviousness, such merciless moments of magnificent betrayal of hope where men can do nothing but stand back and marvel at the astronomical machinations of the universe that we so trivially label as fate. In these times, I am tempted to fall victim to the existence of a higher force pulling the strings from the hollow firmaments above. In these times, the shell of our world shrivels away and crumbles around us leaving us staring fearfully into the core of the abyss that is a cold fluid realization, a realization that our actions, however extreme on the spectrum of behaviour, are indeed insignificant in the grand schemata of the swirl of things.

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Ever since I committed the sin of naïve youth, I have made vehement claims of my fearlessness towards death. I have learned in an undeserved, long life that those who make such claims are often those who think about and fear death the most, for you cannot be fearless of something without first acknowledging it to great extents. Now being here, breathing in my last breaths, I find that I spent too much time worrying and not enough simply living. This feeling I feel at this moment, it’s like ice rolling over sensitive teeth, that first stab of hot, intense pain followed by its thin, cold, watery fingers stretching to the very roots. This feeling, it tells me that the loneliness of my life was much more overwhelming than anything that death could bring, that death is just the pinnacle of an unlived life. I have made too many mistakes, kept too many people at a distance because of my actions. Alas, salvation seems to be the only route forward from here. They say that if you lay down your confessions on your death bed, and are truly repentant, all is forgiven and you are accepted into the ranks of heaven.

This, to me, has always seemed a childish notion beyond any reason whatsoever and still I write these words in one final attempt to redeem myself in the eyes of a higher force that may or may not exist. Although I fear no one will forgive me, I must try…I must try to save myself for you see, I am a coward and I am fearful of death in great measures. Or rather, I am fearful of the mortality that I will be relegated to if I do not lay claims to my devious doings for I would rather live on and be remembered for my villainy than die out completely.

So this is my confession, this is my golden ticket through the pearly gates of heaven. This is my bitter tasting elixir of immortality. Or, on a darker note, this is the evidence that paves my very entry to the dark, twisted shadows of hell.