When people die are they filled with a sense of relief? Do they think to themselves “this is it, I’m finally done; this shit show is finally over. I don’t have to pretend to be happy anymore. I’m happy that I’m not a part of this shit show called living anymore”?

Or do they think to themselves “I’m not ready, I haven’t told my lover that I love him in 30 different languages. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. This isn’t real, this isn’t happening”