I'm going to die.
Yes. In a few decades, my life will come to its natural end.
Everything I've ever been, thought, felt, cared about and knew, will dissipate. My vital processes will cease; the circulation in my body will stop, and my brain will die. All of my memories, everything that constitutes me, will vaporize. I will be no longer, never to come to be again.
And shortly after, when my loved ones' memory will fade or die with them, it will be as if I had never been brought into this world at all.
I like to think of it as a match lit in the darkness.
A spark, coming from nowhere, appearing suddenly, burning fervently and fading away as abruptly as it came to be, departing back into nothingness. A brief, sudden and passionate pulse of life.
Death isn't a pleasant thing to think about, and there is no reason why it should be. But it's inevitable.
Everything that's ever been born, must die. There is no court of appeals. No second opinions. No way around it.
We will all eventually and permanently cease to be. And the same is true for everything in existence. The stars we see today will be extinguished as they burn up all of their fuel and run out of energy. Soon there will be only black holes, which too, in the end, will disappear, and the universe will become cold and empty.
Our death is unavoidable.
And it may be the one thing that makes life this precious. How much more beautiful are the stars now that I know they're going to go out, one by one, like fireworks, to never shine again. How much more breathtaking is the night sky, when I know it will one day darken forever. How much more important, and how much more fragile is every single day of my existence, now that I understand that it will inescapably come to an end. How much more value I see in my fellow human beings, now that I comprehend that a single capricious turn of events could forever erase them from existence.
This is all we have....But how could you want anything more?
It's not something our innate desire to live deals with easily. But hiding under a soft, warm blanket won't make the real world go away. Pretending we'll all survive our own deaths to meet again won't make it so, and how much sweeter and how much more real can reality be when you finally dare to look it in the eye.
Yes, we're all going to die. So is it really worth killing each other over it?
Yes. In a few decades, my life will come to its natural end.
Everything I've ever been, thought, felt, cared about and knew, will dissipate. My vital processes will cease; the circulation in my body will stop, and my brain will die. All of my memories, everything that constitutes me, will vaporize. I will be no longer, never to come to be again.
And shortly after, when my loved ones' memory will fade or die with them, it will be as if I had never been brought into this world at all.
I like to think of it as a match lit in the darkness.
A spark, coming from nowhere, appearing suddenly, burning fervently and fading away as abruptly as it came to be, departing back into nothingness. A brief, sudden and passionate pulse of life.
Death isn't a pleasant thing to think about, and there is no reason why it should be. But it's inevitable.
Everything that's ever been born, must die. There is no court of appeals. No second opinions. No way around it.
We will all eventually and permanently cease to be. And the same is true for everything in existence. The stars we see today will be extinguished as they burn up all of their fuel and run out of energy. Soon there will be only black holes, which too, in the end, will disappear, and the universe will become cold and empty.
Our death is unavoidable.
And it may be the one thing that makes life this precious. How much more beautiful are the stars now that I know they're going to go out, one by one, like fireworks, to never shine again. How much more breathtaking is the night sky, when I know it will one day darken forever. How much more important, and how much more fragile is every single day of my existence, now that I understand that it will inescapably come to an end. How much more value I see in my fellow human beings, now that I comprehend that a single capricious turn of events could forever erase them from existence.
This is all we have....But how could you want anything more?
It's not something our innate desire to live deals with easily. But hiding under a soft, warm blanket won't make the real world go away. Pretending we'll all survive our own deaths to meet again won't make it so, and how much sweeter and how much more real can reality be when you finally dare to look it in the eye.
Yes, we're all going to die. So is it really worth killing each other over it?