My tell tale heart.

I've had heart attacks on my mind lately. I suppose it makes sense when you consider the amount of chest pain I tend to endure on a day to day basis. I can't say I'm too terribly afraid of having a heart attack though. I mean, that's not to say I want to have one, I'm just saying there is really nothing I could do if I were to have one. And I think I would be much more pissed off if I had a heart attack and didn't live through it than if I lived to tell the tale. Well, the idea of dying from a heart attack pisses me off more than having one and surviving because if I did die from one I really wouldn't know the difference. Either way, I really hope my heart doesn't fail. It's amazing the amount of strength and compassion that surrounds an organ that attacks itself. The more I think about it, the more poetic I find the entire thing. The heart is, in a sense, the essence of life. It keeps people alive, but still suffers from the stresses and hardships of the rest of the mind and body. And when left to it's own devices, it attacks itself.

I am a heart; trapped in a cage while I beat beat beat and wait to fail fail fail.