To live—it appears—is to rush across time in search of increasingly 🄲🄾🄼🄿🄻🄴🅇 connections to the experience of living. To grasp after flighty happinesses, glowing like fireflies in the peripheries of our collective & unceasing flow towards death.
If this is so, why not die now?
Because when I die, is the 【ｓｔｉｌｌ】that replaces the 🄲🄾🄼🄿🄻🄴🅇🄸🅃🅈 not more beautiful? If this is true, is there any life for which it is not true? Would it not be the most graceful gift to flow this logic ≋F≋U≋R≋T≋H≋E≋R≋? For all of us to choose a free spot of Earth and, collectively in one painless instant, take the simplest path to one universal destination? Finding the total connection that always escapes us in life?
But the logic must then extend ≋F≋U≋R≋T≋H≋E≋R≋ . All the beasts of Earth must join us in that same moment. And the plants! Are they not alive? Consuming time & space with the irrational efforts at living? All of it, needless 🄲🄾🄼🄿🄻🄴🅇🄸🅃🅈.
Then ≋F≋U≋R≋T≋H≋E≋R≋ . . . to the beasts within beasts. The cells, viruses, bacterium, & their own internal constituents. All that resembles the superfluous machinations of life. Let it, with us, die . . .
and leave the Earth perfect, beautiful . . .
【ｓｔｉｌｌ】.
But, it isn’t【ｓｔｉｌｌ】. The water flows, carving canyons & whittling shores. Land collides with land, mountains rise & fall, all under an atmosphere frenzied with storms, flaunting gaudy rainbows for an eyeless world. Wasted energy driving pointless flows, caressed by the light of needless stars.
All those flows too closely resemble the 🄲🄾🄼🄿🄻🄴🅇🄸🅃🅈 of our lives, filling time with infinite newness. Well then . . . ≋F≋U≋R≋T≋H≋E≋R≋. Shut their eyes too.
Land, sea, sun, & stars. Break their bonds. Sever every link between every atom, down & down, to links of protons, neutrons, & electrons. Shatter every gathering, end every flow, cease every motion. Leave the universe a dark,【ｓｔｉｌｌ】uniformity. A crypt without a single griever’s cry. Give the universe a perfect death.
But deep within that seeming stillness, the flow of endless death goes on & on. Killing quarks & neutrinos, down & down, into nameless dancing depths of infinite interconnectivity.
As it goes, it becomes clear that this flow of total death is no less active than the cycles of living. Even in an endless effort to disappear, death takes on a life just as 🄲🄾🄼🄿🄻🄴🅇 as any other.
Everything remains in motion. I am, in every instant, subsumed by a universe that neither lives nor dies, but is eternally living in its dying, and dying for my life.
My death, just as my life, can only【ｓｔｉｌｌ】some flows too 𝒮𝓉𝒾𝓇𖣘 some others.
I am not immortal, but I am awash in an immortal process that can not permit a total death. Any love of life echoes off the immortal enigma of death. Any lament of death, off a deep love for living. I am chaotic & still dead or alive.
Life & death 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓖𝓸𝓭𝓼.
Well fine then, I’ll live. I’ll bear witness.
I’ll bask in my【 🄲🄾🄼🄿🄻🄴🅇🄸🅃🅈 】,
tossing the dice of death & life, kissing them before each new throw, whispering . . . “≋F≋U≋R≋T≋H≋E≋R≋.”