My throat is Dry

My throat it dry from dehydration, though I refuse to take a drink of water fearing to fuel the tears that wish to run down my hot face.
I want to say it doesn't matter, all of this, this thing we call life, that there is one after it, perhaps better than the one before. And my refusal to accect the inevitable that we are infact mortal.
Do we really cry for their lose of life, or our lose?
There are so many fingers I want to point at people. So many I want to put the blame on, but the fact that I can't is appalling. The fact that it is a natraul part of whatever this is, kills me a little each time I think about it. And it's not the fact that I am mortal that chains me to these tears, it's the fact that other's are not.
-Me-