ON EXISTENCE — The Difference Between Life And Death

Reflection from December 16th, 2007 @ Age 26


Hi.  It’s 12am precisely and I’m finding it difficult to sleep, earplugs and all.  My mind is racing, but for what reasons I am not sure.  

I want to hate myself for not being perfect, and yet I know that if I cannot forgive, I will live alone, not even with my self.  I feel defeated.  I feel deflated.  I feel miserable and I feel irritated.  I feel angry and I feel resentful and I feel cheated and I feel ungrateful.  I loathe hope, and yet I cannot separate myself from it.  I want to feel hopeless so I won’t feel guilty killing myself.  I want to die so I don’t have to feel longing regret.

And yet I cannot help but think that this is the difference between life and death.  I think about David, and I’m not sure whether he can see me or not.  I’m not sure which would be worse.  But I’m almost certain, for him, and for all the dead it would be far worse to be forced to see what remains of life, and what’s been left behind.

For when you are dead, you are completely helpless to right a wrong, to provide comfort to another, and to make a difference.  Your chance is up; David’s chance, is up.  Young aspiring Harvard med-student, falls to his death because he is drunk and in need of a good time.  Young aspiring perfect Harvard med-student, and nonetheless, amongst it all, he needs the escape.  David wound up dead because he needed constantly to escape.  Or so I assume, because I have no way of knowing the difference.  That’s another problem with life; that we as human beings are constantly crippled by our inability to achieve a healthy, all-encompassing perspective.

We are constantly getting stuck, or shall I say I am constantly getting stuck, in the limited and therefore destructive purview of my own consciousness.  But the curious part of the matter is this:  I know that my currently closed mind is destructive, and yet I continue on living in it for reasons I refuse to recognize.

It’s so simple though; I know.  I know why, and it’s simply because living with an open mind and forcing oneself to maintain an open heart is perhaps the most painfully excruciating kind of suffering a human being can put herself through.  And the worst part of that mess is that in order to maintain an open heart and an open mind, a conscious choice must be made to that effect by the human being.  Notably, in order to live a life that is worthwhile in this lifetime, we must consciously choose to enter a place where we are subject to a form of suffering that is comparable to none.  And I wonder, is that where I’ve been all my life?  And I wonder, will it be worthwhile after all, in the end?  And here I lay, and I have not a clue.  All I know is that it’s 12:52am, I am no more tired than when I started.


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