Conspiring Against a Gravestone

I suppose that death is not an easy subject. It’s not subtle and it’s most certainly not kind. If anything, it’s the equivalent of having your least favourite song playing on full blast all around you on a loop. You can feel every note in your body, changing the pace of your heart and making your joints dry, it becomes hard to breathe and you can’t even think properly anymore because every little bit of you is saying “make it stop”. But it doesn’t. If it did, it wouldn’t be death- it would be a scratch or a simple lack of inspiration. Death doesn’t really stop anything, not even life.
The world carries on, a hint of beauty somehow always prevailing above the time that leaves us all in the ground. Death means nothing.
I know that now.