Death

Ignorance is bliss, sometimes. This is one of those times. Have you ever thought that if you were given the knowledge of your death, would you consider that a blessing or a curse? Death is not something, it is the lack of life; just like how darkness is the lack of light. There is no measure of death which we can attribute to it. So everybody gets it the same, like a fast food french fry.

Wonder how it feels like to die? To start to die, to know to die, after you die. In the past, I would often lie in bed and that sensation would come over me. It’s a familiar feeling, the sense of great understanding, a controlled panic. I imagined I die. My mind with all its information dropping into disuse, my intentions fall to the floor (lighting crashes lyrics). I lie there not helpless, but forgotten, disregarded and my mind switches off. My sense of self abruptly disappears, and I return to nothing. It always makes me think of what I was before I am. I don’t remember. I don’t know. I just became, will it be the same? As I became so will I evanesce? Born to die. What a ridiculous concept.

A curse. Not death, knowing death. A knowing death is a mentally painful one. It agonize not only the bearer but tears at the people who loves the bearer. It is insidious and unforgiving, it is a siege of the mind. The lord of the castle is its target, the inhabitants suffer along. This siege has only one inevitable end: utter defeat. There is no hope of the cavalry; there is no respite from inclement weather. Incessant attacks, where sleep provides no repose.