Dahlia bloom.


In my union capacity I just met with someone who is terminally ill and may not live past December. Thinking about the delicate and impermanent state of being human — the illusion that our lives are somehow up to us in the first place — and that despite our fitness regimes, health foods, and moralizing none of us get to choose when or how we die. We can only hope it’s with dignity when we do.

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