The purest moment you’ll have in life is when you are utterly completely alone because you only have yourself to face or to run from. Let’s see what you’re made of.
The final hour is upon us even if it takes a few decades to kick into that last slow motion fall into the ending we all meet. Perhaps when our eyes give up we can’t see the landing, perhaps our ears deafen at the sound of stopping, maybe the electrons and pulsings are disconnected before they cease dancing.
Maybe it is the eternal dark and not the light that is the reward. Begin in the muffled dark, end in the soft slow void, returned to before we had the pulp and the strain.
Why is darkness bad news? Why is light hoped for? What is sleep but a dive into the shadow of our selves for a respite from life?
Love is an expression of living but letting go is the only way to die, whether we cease being or we are born again as someone else, forever shifted and strange and new until the next ending and the next.
The snake eats itself to create a perfect circle.
The body teases life and then does a disappearing act. We only play at this life for awhile. We only touch the earth a few moments before waving adieu too soon to make our bon courage good-bye seem believable.
Life is the big escape from the inevitable. Refuge is a fairy tale you tell children so they don’t go mad. Revealing too much about Death is giving away the game before it is played. No matter how many times you play, you never play the same hand twice, even as we repeat the same circle we always have and always will.
Perhaps love and hate are formed in memory and perhaps the slipping away of remembrance is the relief we cannot name. Whether the light or the dark awaits us, whose to say they are not one in the same?