Socrates proferred the best advice I ever had: young man, as well as bringing out all that is within you, your task on earth is to ensure that you remain prepared at all times, to die.

Fantasies about afterlives, heaven and life-everlasting would prevent me from attaining the greatest understanding of death that is much clearer, the more vibrant and exalted the life that is led.

This is the song of songs, the lord of the dance, the watercourse way.

This is death: I have been aware of the following image for quite a while. What remains, what is extant of what existed and persisted until death fell into a gap between the paving slabs? The argument works mostly for atheists, those lberated from the christian bullshit.

I hold the wick that remains after the complete candle has been eroded by the flame, but I lie palpably dead. Then all that is said and done, this aliveness I have, my invigourated corpse, how? a split second? a nanosecond? surely not some trick of beingness and nothing?

Death is a parameter. Form is the way it is, only because death gives it its boundaries. Mountains and forests reach the limits of their natures by dint of the limiting function of death.

To be, or not to be, that is the question.

Z.

Bin Tryin commentin' on "Rings around." Can't get no satiisfaction dudes."