It's a relief after a long day.
The brain turns off
into nothingness.
The body explodes but feels nothing.
There's nothing to feel with.
There's no one to be.
Concepts lose form.
Form loses meaning.
Meaning ceases to matter.
Matter turns into pieces
that sink into the ground.
Live forever with a degrading body.
Natural processes cannot be stopped.
Death is nothing more than a natural process.
Ugly and scary for our concept of self.
Even more - for our love of pleasure and comfort and stability. Power.
Upon death, all power dies.
Electricity goes out.
Darkness becomes invisible.
You end.
There's nothing.
Not even a dream.
It's like sleep, except nothing happens.
The brain scrambles to grasp those ideas. It can't possibly, really: something that exists doesn't have the capacity to know nonexistence.
But it's not scary.
It's nothing.
What one fears, really,
is the possibility of suffering. Death
turns that all off.
It's a relief
after a long day.
Except it's not because there's nothing. No pain, no relief, no you, no past, no now, no eternity.
You stop existing forever
but that
means nothing for you
as there is no you anymore.
Yet the world keeps spinning.
The stars keep burning.
The atoms keep binding
the air keeps flowing
insects keep eating
fluids keep leeking.
There's just no you to experience it.
That's all.
It's okay.
It's nature.
You don't have to like it.
It'll happen anyway.
Resist it, fear it, fight it, deny it, demonize it
and it'll kill your life before it even ends.
.
.
.
14.12.22
CZYTASZ
heart beats
Poesia~ poezje itp ~ w gruncie rzeczy, jesteśmy worami mięsa, kości, i flaków. ale w tym worze mieści się mózg, a mózg to wciąż niezbadana złożoność, która z prostego wora potrafi uczynić święty graal. the heart beats/heartbeats/heartbeat: serce bije, ser...
