December 21, 2012 - I sit in half-lotus position - surrendering all grasp to image, feeling, emotion, sensation, knowledge - and unsplash into an infinite ocean of absolute awareness and nothing more; awareness that is aware of "my" mind's quasi-subconscious tendency to "understand" what "enlightenment" is, and in abiding as this pure, empty awareness - of form and not as the form itself, including the form of thought attempting to understand a state of pure thoughtlessness - ironically understanding...

The fear. The utter fear I constantly feel of a subject most would find invaluable. I live my life, just fine. I do work, just fine. The part that kills me. I get on Prose, with such adventures previously swarming my mind like a beehive. Once the app is pressed, the bees leave. I try to lure them back to no such luck. As adventurous as I previously felt, I fear when I get on Prose, I don't know what to say. I am silenced. I am without imagination.

The days follow the days and my routine followed suit, it was time to fetch two bucket loads of coal up two flights of stairs and on into the lounge - a task I had completed many times before - but this was going to change my life forever as I entered the lounge; struggling with the load I was forced to a sudden stop by an overwhelming sensation of heat burning my body, I dropped the coal and watched as it spilled over the carpet, clutching my chest as the heat overcame my ability to withstand it, I tore off my tie and shirt and collapsed as the heart attack took hold and I gasped in desperation for lungfuls of air that refused to come, the heat built to a crescendo and all I could do was panic, alone, as my body juddered and shook with the pain that I had never felt before, I blacked out as my oxygen levels plummeted.