Loves Me Not

EPILOGUE

Thursday September 6, 2017

I remember when I was in my third year of university, I took a course called The Sociology of Health. I'm not sure what relevance it had to the overall course, but I remember this one lecture in particular where my professor told us about something called Memento Mori. In Latin, that translates to: remember that you will die.

In this lecture, she explained to us how in the Victorian ages, having one's photograph taken was a very long and complicated process. So long and complicated, in fact, that scarcely did anyone have their photograph taken while they were alive. This process usually happened once the individual was deceased. It became a tradition. Once you died, you were then photographed. As a memory of your life. Memento Mori, they'd say. Remember that you will die.

I've always thought about death due to its fascinating nature. How peculiar is it that we as a species are created, only to live a short life on this planet, and then we simply cease to exist. People always say life is short – but is it truly? I mean, eighty to ninety years (if you're lucky) is quite a long time. I think it's our perception of time that has us truly captivated by the concept of death. Think about how long the average life expectancy was a few hundred years ago. The average male would live to the age of thirty-five. Thirty-five! That's hardly anything at all, certainly not a full life. But that's how it used to be, and therefore, it was normal and expected. It was what people were used to. You live, you grow old, and then you die. Overtime, the average lifespan began to extend, until finally, we reached the point we're at now. One hundred is quite the milestone to reach, and while it may be rare, it is still indeed possible. So with all that in mind, who's to say that the human life expectancy won't continue to grow exponentially? We have the potential, don't we? And with the current pattern that we're evolving from, anything's possible, right?

I'd like to live to one-hundred-and-sixty-three. I think that would be an ideal age to live to. However, without all of the sicknesses and ailments that the elderly possess. Perhaps by then, our technologies and medical sciences will have improved significantly. Or maybe someone will discover the key to human mortality. Now wouldn't that be something?

When we were kids, my friends and I used to ask each other, "If you could live forever, would you?" Everyone always answered yes, of course. What child would willingly choose to put an expiration date on their own life? But I never looked at it that way. The answer isn't as black and white as everyone makes it out to be. There are certain aspects and consequences to be considered. For example, which age would you choose to live forever at? Or would you just continuously keep growing older and older forever? Would everyone else around you be blessed with immortality as well, or just you? Because in that case, what is the point? Life is only worth living because of the people that you surround yourself with. Why live for an eternity if you're going to spend it alone?

Not everything is meant to last forever, and humans aren't made to live until the end of time. We all have an expiration date, a time that we are all set to run out. And I'm okay with that. If we were aware that we could live forever, would we truly even live at all? Or would we simply take the days for granted, telling ourselves that we'll do it tomorrow, or the next day. What if there is no tomorrow? What if you get hit by a bus, or drown, or get struck by lightning and die, never able to fulfil the life that you wanted?

I think that's why I'm so fascinated with the concept of death, as well as the concept of living each day as though it's your last. People may think it's trivial, but it's quite crucial if you truly want to live. I don't take things for granted. I don't put things aside to do later. I don't hide my feelings or suppress my true desires. I live with the thought that each day could be my last, and that helps me push through. It helps me see everything in only the brightest of colors. Because when you live with an expiration date, with the hourglass running out, you realize how much there is to live for. You realize everything that you want to accomplish in life, and you put those things on your priority list. You make time for them and you appreciate every damn second of it. Because if you don't, the consequences are dire: living a mediocre life that leaves you unfulfilled and unsatisfied.

I want to do great things in this life of mine. I'd like to travel the world and explore unknown territory. I'd like to meet different people and help them in every way I possibly can. I'd like to change lives and improve living statuses. I'd like to create things that matter, not just to me, but to everybody in between. Rich, poor, black, white, girl, boy, genderless – everyone matters, everyone deserves to have a voice and decide their destiny. I want to change people's minds through my words. I want to create a legacy for myself so that I will be remembered.

One day I will die and be long gone. But the words I write, they will stay forever, living on the pages for years afterwards. As Joseph Michael Straczynski said: "Like everyone else, I am going to die. But the words – the words live on for as long as there are readers to see them and audiences to hear them. It is immortality by proxy. It is not really a bad deal, all things considered."

I couldn't agree more, Straczynski. I couldn't agree more.