Death

I do not know what’s the fuss about death. That it is sudden, extended, lengthened, elongated, stretched, or otherwise surprising. But the day we are born is the day we begin dying. In terms of a thousand years, human life is but a day long. In terms of a hundred thousand years, human life is but an hour long. In terms of a million years long, human life is but a minute long. In terms of a hundred million years, human life is split second, flash in the pan, wink of an eye - long. Will Durant, one of my most admired thinker in the intellectual community, wrote about it with courage and dignity: “And yet, what if it is for life’s sake that we must die? In truth, we are not individuals; and it is because we think ourselves such that death seems unforgivable. We are temporary organs of the race, cells in the body of life; we die and drop away that life may remain young and strong. If we were to live forever, growth would be stifled and youth would find no room on the earth. Death, like style, is the removal of rubbish, the excision of the superfluous.” Poch Suzara