Drifting

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Never could I have imagined I wouldn't only get to see this infinite sea of sparkling darkness, but find it to be my new home, for many hours I've drifted with my body through this sea of stars, my thoughts clear, and no pain. This isn't what I suspected death to be like, I expected, well, I'm not exactly sure what I expected. Maybe I just thought it would all be over?
In the corner of my eye drifted silently a shooting star, a beautiful icy ball of frozen gases, its tail sparkling in the faintest light, shards of ice, drifting forever on. The comet, graceful like elegant Queen of the abyss, beauty in a place so dark, welcoming me to the afterlife.

My Life is over. This is me now. Alone, Drifting forever on much like the comet who gently cradles me with its icy presence, I'm dead, I'm so far away from the Osiris I doubt I'll ever see it again, my mother, my brothers, all of my family, gone, possibly forever. I don't want to drift for the next, however many years I'm out here, I don't want the stars to be my only home, beautiful they are but not like home. I want to be home, I want to feel the warmth of my bed and the gentle arms of my mother, I want to feel, I want to live again.

I've been out here for days it seems, drifting aimlessly, I suppose its better then nothing happening once you die, and your soul just, disappears, I hoped to go to a heaven of sorts but it seems that's not my fate. My fate appears to be, drifting through space forever. Strangely enough I see things every now and again, extraordinary things, I've witnessed the birth of  stars and the death of stars, I have seen nebulas and asteroids, I don't know how long I've been drifting but it seems to have been a very long time; it's a popular belief that time stops when you die.

    Right now it seems to be the exact opposite, it seems like the universe is shooting past me faster than the speed of light, its moving, and expanding as if its breathing; and alive. I have probably been out here for centuries; drifting alone in this magnificent emptiness.

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