Day 25

Death is something that people don't like to ponder. They don't like to think about it, to talk about it, or--least of all-- prepare for it.

I understand this completely, seeing as death is everyone's final mission. Death is the thing that lets you know that no matter how hard you try there is no going back. It is a dark reminder that you may not have done everything that you sought out to or that you may not have lived with the courage you intended. No matter how you look at it, death is despicable.

There are two types of death in my opinion, your own death and the death of others. To me, these events have stark contrast in inflicting emotion. When pondering my own demise, I don't feel much pain or anxiety, truly believing in a fatalist's world that "things happen for a reason". However, when adjusting my image to the death of others, emotions begin to heighten and my stomach churns in knots that wrench my insides.

This pain that I feel throughout my insides stems from a fairly selfish place. I don't want to know what the world is like without you in it. It is as simple as that. Yet, the Universe has yet to heed my request. Death cannot be stopped.

With a slight shudder to think, I began my quest for today with this in mind. Today I wrote my very own will. Truth be told, I needed some help; so I called out the forces of Microsoft Word to create me a template for such things. How am I supposed to know what a will should look like or sound like, for that matter?

So I sat down with it and filled in the blanks of the names of my loved ones that would be the rightful owners to my memories, if given the chance. It felt strange, and a bit unnatural--and not because it was about death-- because it was a stupid template that was creating my words for me. So, I started over.

I think that it was a good pal that encouraged me to do this before I left for India the first time. I didn't, but she's a smart girl, so I should probably have done it sooner. She told me that any written form should do, so I have now taken this approach. So basically I started from scratch, writing a letter as if I were no longer a mere speck on this planet.

It was a strange feeling, almost like I was expecting to die. Gross. I forced myself out of that idea and wrote from my heart. I wrote a letter to be read by everyone as if I had to go before saying goodbye. It was brief, although just as powerful as I would want a "goodbye" to be. I attempted encouraging words rather than legal mumbo-jumbo assigning my various financials. This felt right. This felt so much better and almost soothing to know that I will always have a chance to say goodbye, at anytime.

Like I said before, death is not something that is easy to talk about, nor should it be. Death should not take precedence over life, at any one time, although I do feel lighter having spent 20 minutes on it today.

As for now, I will go out and LIVE. I will continue my quest for knowledge, happiness, character, culture, and discovery. I will not dwell in the concept of death, but rather acknowledge its presence and encourage myself to live larger because of it.