autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Default)
Oh God, can my mind please shut up at 4am in the morning so that I can go to sleep? Instead it goes on strangest tangeants... There must be something about fullmoon that reveals the truths, not allow veils and illusions even for the sake of comfort, for... what else do we have in this existence except temporary comfort and reprieve from the inevitable truth?

I knew about death and was fascinated about it since a very early age. I think the distinct realization that I could go on without dying terribly due to an astronomical event (e.g. meteor hitting the earth) was a miracle came around the age of 9. It was the promt end of my fascination with astronomy. It just scared the shit out of me to realize that I could be taken by a black hole in next moment before I even know what hit me. The idea that people died really hit me much later. Surprising since I lost two grandfathers at ages of 6 and 12. First I was too small to get it. Second, well I took it VERY well until I started missing him few months later. Oh,and that isolated break down when I suddenly thought of the possibility of my maternal grandmother  
dying and started to cry in the middle of the school next day. Even then it was a distant thing, and I got over pretty quickly.

I think it hit me partially after the 99 earthquake. During the couple of years after that I would have trouble sleeping. My fear was more along the lines of forgetting something horrible happening to me or dying while sleeping. The idea that, I might not wake up next day made me clutch my quilt and not panic every time I blink. I wonder how I got sleep at all.

Then I had a dream, where I had already died. I realized all there was when it was over was sorrow. No fear. End of panics, for a while.

During last few months, I am guessing due to both of my grandmothers slowly failing before my eyes, the death has been in my mind a lot. I couldn't figure out why I was scared so much of dying when I knew when it came to it, shock wouldn't let me feel anything. Whatever is after it doesn't matter. It finally occured to me is not the idea of dying. Not a grim reaper getting my soul or whatever you believe in. It is the same old fear of going into nothingness. Everything that has a beginning has also an end. Our lives end, we dissapear but it doesn't end there. There is no way out of it. Even through we could cheat dying of old age there still is the fact that the earth will go sour after a time period, if we don't get screwed by a rock hitting us, or kill ourselves through messing with environment, sun will eventually run out of fuel and dissapear, and even universe will go where it came from one day. Nothing lasts forever. It just doesn't. Whatever forever means. Dying seems like such a small world compared to the futility of all...

The end result is that, I can feel the clock ticking. Like one day my grandfathers weren't there anymore, one day soon my parents will be the oldest generation in the family. One day again too soon, my parents will die. I guess what bugs me more is the change that keeps ripping away things that defines home for me. Home doesn't feel like home, routines of childhood now feels like a magic trick that was spoiled. Things doesn't stay same even when you hold on to them and time goes faster and faster. Ticking. I can hear the tick-tocks sometimes, almost literally.

It just seems like, it all is pointless, whatever we do... Why do we do what we do when it isn't going to matter 200 or a 1000 years from now on?  What is the point of existing when you know you are going to vanish eventually?

and what is the point of being able to think, to be aware of this fact?

it feels like everything of this world is illusion, shadows, not real. (and yes, I sort of am paraphrasing a philosopher with this but for the life of me I can't recall the name at the moment) the problem is, when everything that consists your life is exposed as a fraud, including its mere existence, how do you go about finding a reference point? Or how do you deal with the utter nonsense of it all? Cause you have to go on with life.

How to make peace with it?

Most people seems to be adept at the art of denial at some level, not sure why but I don't come with that failsafe. It results with strange issues like this.
I can't ignore the time pressing, that all too soon I will be gone. Most people with this knowledge seem to be happy with it. 23 years old, 8 years after I first lost sleep over it, I still don't know how to deal with it when it presses on me.


autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Default)

January 2016

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