The Fragility of Life
You never know, man. You never know.
Then again, life is everything more than wondering about when you are going to die. Because that is the end of the annihilatory mind of Litmoid Man —not the ultimate aspiration to the well-examined life of Thinking Man, who has something to show for his own turn at the Great Wheel of Being and Nothingness.
I left scratches and scratchings. I left beauty and joy. I left ambivalence and hatred. Because I did live them. And do —even now— though it is all indifference. But, as with the vast majority of human beings, I was neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm and, thus, was spewed out of the maw of permanence.
Whom the gods would save they first make to forget.
