The idea of dying has occurred to me more than once.
At moments, you could even say that it obsesses me.
Always, dying is for the ancient. Not necessarily the ancient of bodies, of physical beings. The ancient of spirits.
I am ready to die at any moment. I am ancient in my own estimation.
The transfer of being from life to death is liquid in many ways. Vitality trickles out of the body Ö and into Ö into what I know not of. But death can be joyous . Not for the ones left behind, but for the ones that have moved on.
And it is the ones left behind who shed their tears. Grief is, aside from love perhaps, the most selfish emotion one can feel. There is no thought to the beauty of the deceased, to their peace - only the pain of lacking contact for us.
I have grieved too often.
Do not grieve for me.