Amor Fati

Someone is dying. There’s always someone dying. Always someone on the verge of their own oblivion. Always eyeing the razor line between everything they know and that thing which is unknowable. Unfathomable. And that moment is eternal. Eternal to them. Eternal as the structure and composition of all things. The things that make a stone are tiny stones and the things that make death are tiny little deaths compiled in crystalline lattice across time and place.


At this moment, the moment your mind processes the language in these words, other lives are cut short as well. All shapes of lives and life lose their circuits and cease to be what they were before, a final ceasing of the things that constantly change from one instance to another.


By sheer math, the daily demise of insects is incalculable. And now we know that due to Earth’s changing climate, those deaths have increased exponentially. Many species are are disappearing as I write this, as you read this. Again, the result of both human activity and the churn of time. Death comes for us all… A cliche anchored in brute fact.


And of course death on a physical spectrum is the mere disconnection of material. The band has broken up. The team has been decommissioned.


Let me pause here and say, I am not obsessed at all with death. I have not dwelled on death for any extended period of time since I was very young. Maybe 9 or 10. Once I reconciled my disbelief in a spiritual realm, the idea of my demise went from horrific to unfortunate.

Read More