Humans are temporal creatures, we do not exist for eternity. And yet, the very thought of death brings many of us sorrow. For millenias and generations past, we have built myths upon myths of eternal, immortal deities, as if projecting our innermost desires into a heavenly canvas, as if we were fighting against a great injustice of the universe, a war song against the fate of destruction.
The human race, as a collective, continually tries time and time again, in order to disrupt the order of the cosmos. As advanced as current science and medicine may seem, we still have yet to cure death.
We may try to prolong our lives, but eventually death will catch up to us.
Why is it that we are the only living objects in the universe? How is it that we, and only we are aware of ourselves, and are aware of our impermanence?
Is self-awareness, the knowledge that people exist, and "I" exist, and that it is only for a while until the last light comes, a curse upon intelligent fools like us?
Thirteen billion years in a cold, dark universe. Three billion years on a lone planet teaming with life. And not even a century to live.
A silent abyss.
We're like specks of sand on an insignificant beach amidst a never-ending ocean.
Just waiting for the day when the winds of death blows us away.
Like me and you, we will all return to eternal oblivion.
But even small specks can make up an island.
Even if death is the ultimate end to all of us, even if the grim reaper is knocking at the door, remember that it is through death that gives us the will to live. It is through death that our love for each other, our remembrance has meaning.
We all might die eventually, but while we're living, we shouldn't waste our time staring at this empty abyss. We'll cling on to each other. We'll remember each other.
And, at least for me, that's good enough.
Even there on my final day,
I know I’ll still call your name