I've been thinking about life and death and all that happy stuff since yesterday's news. It's certainly popping up a lot, especially with what the media is hyping up as a possible "World War III" scenario. I'm pretty skeptical about that whole thing, mind you, but it's the implications--war and death--that have got me thinking.
I don't want to spend this post waxing philosophical. I've got about 25 years of life experience, but I haven't spent years on the subject of "what it means to be alive" or whatever to have a logical, reasonable point of view. One of my friends once said that there's no point in arguing over things that neither party knows extensively about. I'm inclined to disagree with that partially, but the sentiment remains: what's the point of talking about something you know nothing about?
What I do know is that life is precious. I think that folks are taught this idea at one point while growing up, whether that be by a teacher or parent or by the reality of a situation. I remember hearing from somewhere (though I'm not quite sure from where) about kids thinking their invincible when they're young, that you'll live forever or something like that. That made sense to me because I could--hell, I still can relate.
I'm still relatively young, though I'm starting to feel smaller aches and pains. I'm already past the age where famous people I grew up with are starting to pass away; Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston are a couple of bigger examples. Right now I'm that age where people I've actually been in contact with or know through other people are passing away, and soon... you get the idea. I haven't really ever known the experience of losing a loved one. I think I'm both blessed and cursed for this fact because... well, I don't know how to deal. I can still understand to an extent the death of a friend's loved one because of basic empathy: I try to imagine if the same thing happened to me and it just breaks my heart. It breaks my heart real bad.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing, to realize that no matter how many letters you write or calls you make to a deceased person, they won't be there. Or no matter how many times you go to their favorite cafe or bookstore, you'll never see them again, no matter how badly you want to. In a word... it's awful, but I don't think anyone doubts that.
I don't want to spend this post waxing philosophical. I've got about 25 years of life experience, but I haven't spent years on the subject of "what it means to be alive" or whatever to have a logical, reasonable point of view. One of my friends once said that there's no point in arguing over things that neither party knows extensively about. I'm inclined to disagree with that partially, but the sentiment remains: what's the point of talking about something you know nothing about?
What I do know is that life is precious. I think that folks are taught this idea at one point while growing up, whether that be by a teacher or parent or by the reality of a situation. I remember hearing from somewhere (though I'm not quite sure from where) about kids thinking their invincible when they're young, that you'll live forever or something like that. That made sense to me because I could--hell, I still can relate.
I'm still relatively young, though I'm starting to feel smaller aches and pains. I'm already past the age where famous people I grew up with are starting to pass away; Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston are a couple of bigger examples. Right now I'm that age where people I've actually been in contact with or know through other people are passing away, and soon... you get the idea. I haven't really ever known the experience of losing a loved one. I think I'm both blessed and cursed for this fact because... well, I don't know how to deal. I can still understand to an extent the death of a friend's loved one because of basic empathy: I try to imagine if the same thing happened to me and it just breaks my heart. It breaks my heart real bad.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing, to realize that no matter how many letters you write or calls you make to a deceased person, they won't be there. Or no matter how many times you go to their favorite cafe or bookstore, you'll never see them again, no matter how badly you want to. In a word... it's awful, but I don't think anyone doubts that.
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