Drain Drain Go Away!

It is draining me. Why is this unsettling blur between ‘real’ and ‘unreal’ not going away? I was walking back from the train station late last night, dead tired. The weather was unusually pleasant, it was drizzling gently and I was staring at a street lamp post and how the fine drops of rain were sparkling against its light. A white seagull was flying low and my eyes followed it as it slowly landed on the lamp post. For a second, I wondered how it would feel if I died that very moment. The question itself was not that odd or even new. I often find myself wondering how death must feel in moments that I ‘fully occupy’. I guess everyone does. What was odd last night was that I suddenly doubted the 'real'ness of the moment of death too.