Thoughts Before Bed: What Makes You Fear Death?

I don’t fear death. I fear losing my teeth, and being murdered — unexpectedly. When it’s my time to go, it’s my time to go. That’s a philosphy my sister and I share. Our feet are always on the edge, seeking the next tallest rollercoaster, to ride and jump off before going down the 90 degree slope. My sister just might stay on, she’s far more reckless (in a good way).

Death and I exchanged smiles at 3, and from then on, we’ve been cordial. Knowing it can come knocking on your door at any time, friend or foe, I cherish the moments spent with those I love, once loved, and even strangers.

Rambling, rambling, rambling.

I’m rambling, but what makes one fear death? Not knowing what’s on the other side? I’ll tell you what’s on the other side…nothing.

Is that what you fear? You know it’s true. If you remember nothing before you got here, the chances of you remembering anything after are slim to none. The greatest stories of all time, stem from this fear…and boredom…and a collective imagination. This fear of yours, leads you, and the rest of humanity, past-present-future, to believe in something that’ll save you, keep your memory alive, keep that precious soul of yours alive.

If you’re an ant of society (which most of us are), it probably won’t, but if you can leave your mark, a footprint, you’ll be remembered. A piece of your mind will live on until the end of time.

Nevermind genetics.

That’s the beauty and tradegy of being a human, we can deviate far from the norm, come up with something unheard of, and leave it as your mark.

Death shouldn’t be a fear, it should be a reminder that we must leave, no matter the shoe size, an outstanding impression. It may be a lot easier , so that when it comes knocking, you’ll be ready to leave that old house of yours…and reveal yourself to the world.

Now, what makes you fear death?

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