Looking glass



Anyone who tells you that they don’t fear death is either disingenuous, deluded, or delirious.

For the second time this month, I’ve become a spectator to the carcasses of a few fallen hatchlings at the base of the stairs up to my apartment. The nests high above in the archway appear perhaps too vulnerable to the elements. I had quietly been a bit bothered that I hadn’t gotten around to taking some pictures of the barely-feathered newborns the last time. I didn’t, however, plan or wish to be witness to the event again…

It is the most fleeting of things, the amalgamation of fired neurons we call life. We take for granted that the entire encapsulation includes the very sentience we perceive it with. The convenient benefits of our evolved brains are the ability to create distractions and the ability to assign emotional value to things we can whimsically imagine for ourselves. They are the blinders that keep our eyes away from inevitability and focused on construct…and considering our species’ fixation with emotion and value placement, it’s perhaps a psycho-biological prerequisite.

It’s not the loss of the sensory stimulus that’s so much the issue…I suspect that is the primary thought process we all go through when mulling the questions. It’s the process of losing the very system that processes the stimuli. It’s not the loss of everything you’ve placed value upon; it’s the loss of the ability to place value.

Quiet, stark reality. A testament to brevity.

May you find many vivid intoxications for as long as you will need them.

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