Imagine the vast expanse of the Mongolian hinterland.

Rolling hills in the distance and flat lands in front of you, blending into the horizon.

Wide open skies of the most piercing blue hues, above you.

The harsh rays of the sun that seem unfiltered, beating down upon you.

Creases and lines furrowing across your visage at 120 frames per second.

The magnificence of the horses bounding on the ground beneath your feet.

Marching to the beat of the cosmic drums.

If I'm ever there, I would want to just lay down and die.

But not before I feel alive for the first time...

And also the last.

I would want to be tied by a long rope to the saddle of one of the horses, and be dragged across the great plains.

My mind and body becoming pulsatingly raw, wounded and alive before succumbing to the certainty of a mere demise.

Every inch of me becoming aware of the flesh around my bones and the blood in my veins.

Every single thought and memory rising to the fore.

It's the only way to die.

Wide awake and aching with pain, clouds of dust all around.

Bruised and battered but the blood still rushing to the brain.

Heart pounding, eyes bleeding, lungs screaming, skin burning.

It's also the only way to live.