About death

What happens when we die? I hate to believe that we just disintegrate into the earth as if we never were and no part of us remains, except the memory with our loved ones, who out-survive us, until they die too. What if death was only the beginning?

What about the soul? Is there really such a thing? I’d like to think it exists and we remain floating in the ether, in that parallel realm that separates the living from the dead. Otherwise, why do we dwell and write about the fallen ones if they can’t hear / feel us? Maybe deep inside, we know that it will reach them somehow…

 

 

 

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One thought on “About death

  1. We just flutter in the wind, move on from flower to flower, and are then folded by the hand of oblivion to be heard of no more. Such is the fate of human existence which will with time be folded into the darkness that is the fate of all. I always loved the contrast proposed in the myth of Achilles and Hector: one wanted his name to echo throughout all ages; the other, aware of the futility of it all, knew that all that one can win or lose is this moment, the ones one loved. The ending is tragic, but the lesson is clear—all that one can win or lose is this moment, and if death doesn’t open one to the moment, to life, nothing else will.

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