The ending of things. The mute tragedy of falling. Hefting loss on my shoulders like a champion; like I'm not surrounded by a million miniature deaths at every step. And should that make it easier somehow? Just because everything dies all the time, should your death be any less meaningful?
Childhood's end.
Sticks'n'stones in the grass.
How can one live beside a twin that dies, and isn't that what we're here, doing continuously? It gets to be much. Maybe the real tragedy isn't living with death, but living with this unfurling spool into destruction and disrepair. Knowing there's nothing you can do about the missing cogs and the broken limbs, the most terrifying thing of all.
Love, we say. Love is everything. We say because it gives us the impression sometimes, often, that we can outlast and outendure death. Love makes you think you can do anything, but then death comes and sniggers. No, you can't. When the things you love begin to die, all you can do is watch.
But perhaps that's more noble than you realize. Maybe it's not nothing, after all, giving someone this gift of bearing witness to their passing from existence. Maybe love shouldn't be measured by the deceptive strength it brings, but by the courage you're left with. It's a different kind of strength, not running away from death. Standing to say I will endure this helplessness, this terror that is, this disappearing, even though I don't know what I'll do with the love I have for you once you go. And that petrifies me.
The construction
"He died."
seems meaningless in a world where there's dying at every corner, and isn't it, surely our duty to rise above, to shake heads and assert the triumph of living? In this raging war between life and death, where victories and losses are counted on such a minute level - after all, who's got the time to count brown leaves? - is it saying anything at all really to affirm he died?
It needs mean something, because else, why am I here? The act of witnessing, in our mind, implies testifying. I don't know how many of us would agree to bear witness to death, if they knew there'd never be anyone to tell, after. We need that validation of someone else's "I'm so sorry" because it translates somewhere to
"You were so brave."
And you were. People are, continuously, all the time.
Is there hope to be found in the natural progression of things? Just because I cross a bed of dead leaves, should that have any impact on how I endure my life? Does the normality of death deny its tragedy?
Do you reckon dying October leaves take comfort in watching a funerary cortege go by?
I find walking is a tremendous stimulat for introspection. Yesterday's walk, with all its abundance of dying, tied into my own thoughts perfectly.
How beautiful and profound what you've written is 🖤 I see death as a transition, and after being broken by the painful loss of my father, it seems I can understand it a little, but in the end, we don't know more. I only know that knowing death is ever-present makes me more passionate about life and about people. I love that you wrote this reflection accompanied by these autumn photographs, an autumn I haven't had the pleasure of experiencing, since it doesn't occur in my country, but that feeling of nostalgia and the dying of the vegetation also makes me think about that transition I mentioned at the beginning... Happy to have met you through this post...
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The deep explanation you made on this master piece right here is mind blowing @honeydue I understand the life isn't ours it is just a journey path, we should live the best out of it.
Read Annhiliation by VanDerMeer. Read it again. Its gorgeous and about the beauty of decay.
Funny you explored these topics. I was a man on the street on the way to the train station. He had a moustache and a fleshy pallor much like that of my deceased father. Here you speak of the twin, whereas, when I reached the train, I saw another man, again who looked just like him, again.
Confirmation bias, perhaps, but with our only limited A T G and C of our genetic structure, it is a mathematical possibility, however ever remote that we can have (pardon the pun) dead ringers everywhere if we have enough mutant samples.
I speak freely of this stuff because it helps me gather my thoughts, and I hope it may help allow yours to wander off in a myriad of directions, hopefully not too distracting from whatever it is that you may do to remove your sense of lack, or loss or however it may be defined.
As ever, thank you for your continued contributions of words to this place, always a delight to read.
Oh my god I read this last night on ecency and left to comment today, so read it again now. I love this comment - thanks for the recommendation!!
I am hoping it's a typo because it'd be a fantastic typo. Love it as a way to start a narrative, though.
By all means, ramble away. It's what I do, mostly, here, and find rambling on Hive helps me tremendously with the other things I'm working on :) Of course, the fact that I get to interact with cool, creative people helps me even more.
I mean, I was a man on the street, but it should be I SAW.
Maybe you meant to create this split between narrator and protagonist that did not in fact exist.
It might even be stronger writing that way. I don't know. My first week of work is now over, and its the first time I've turned my home computer on all week, and I just wanted a big keyboard to edit what I've achieved :P
I see what you mean. I've written like that sometimes, on borrowed time, hurried and full of typos and loves what came out. Happy editing. How was your first week?
At the risk of sounding as arrogant as my cover letter, I think its going to be easy. I'm looking forward to starting work in the production environment next week. One more day of training on the Monday. My spoiling myself tonight will be a melatonin tablet before bed so I can get some good sleep. I've been getting up at 530AM. I've been getting home at about 530/6PM on days that I don't go to the gym. On days I do go to the gym, I basically do that, eat, shower, then go straight to bed at 9PM.
Once i get access to the gym that is located in the office, it should be a little bit more tolerable, I hope!