I wrote this while dealing with the strange sensation of becoming a person again, after spending a few years emotionally blockading myself. I woke up a little more every day, and for a period of a few months, I was acutely aware of all the little things that could kill me. I'd imagine driving off the road into a pond, or wondering if a large hydraulic projector would crush me if it fell.
These experiences aren't atypical for anyone, but their increased frequency was enough to be notable. On the one hand, perhaps this fits the trope of being more cautious and less likely to take risks as you grow older. But personally, I think I was becoming more acutely aware of how precious it all was. After thinking about it and talking about it, it seemed like I was suddenly understanding how much I had to lose.
So - this piece is about dyings and endings. A bit of saying goodbye to a part of myself, a bit of attempting to understand morbidity as freedom.