My Old Friend

Why are you in my thoughts tonight, old friend? Come to claim another life? Tsche, that’s just like you, you never tell me anything anymore. You walked by my side, ever in my thoughts through the lonely years, I’ll admit, I still feel some degree of morbid fascination in your presence. I always knew that you would come, sooner or later. There is no surprise in that. Still, I’d like a heads up before it comes to that.

Is it because I’m not afraid? Mmh, you never were very good at conversation, you even make me seem talkative. But no, you are not here on business tonight, the years are many until then I reckon. You smile at me but you know I’m right, just as I know that you never fail to keep your word. It’s what makes you good at your job.

I’ve said it before, black is such a depressing colour on you. But then again, most people can’t seem to disconnected darkness from you. I do, I see the woman behind the deity. Yes, yes, I know you’re not a goddess but it comes pretty close doesn’t it? Even if you do transcend divinity. Even gods fade away and die, you’ve told me that before.

So I ask you again, my friend, why you are in my thoughts tonight? To remind me of my mortality perhaps. I can’t really guess at your motives. Are you perhaps tired of it all and just looking for some friendly company?

In that case I will stop pestering you with questions and just let you be for a while. It can’t be easy, being Death. I certainly don’t envy your job.

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About Fredrik Kayser

Everything is connected.
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4 Responses to My Old Friend

  1. That’s a stong metaphor. Well, if you consider death a friend it means you don’t fear it :)

  2. Fredrik Kayser says:

    She is Death itself, portrayed as a companion. :)

  3. Who is the old friend?

  4. yourothermotherhere says:

    Ah Fredrik, I am always with you as I am with everyone. No one is ever alone you see. There is always a crowd—God, gods, guardian angels, spirits of various loyalties, relatives that have passed on, well, you get the picture. We’re all here to stake our claim.

    Why are you more aware of me tonight? Maybe you felt a cold caress across your cheek, or maybe you see something on TV that reminded you of death. But is being reminded of me such a bad thing? Who was it who said, “gather ye rosebuds while you may…?” Let us sit in companionable silence and consider it.

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