I think about death every day. The fear of death is who I am. Every day, I think in circles trying to convince myself that the prospect of surviving my own death is plausible and I fail every time. All I am left with is the agonizing mantra, "when i die, it will be as if i was never born". If i am told that I will be remembered or even worshiped after my death I will not feel the slightest comfort because from my perspective there will be NOTHING.
Every day I ask myself what am I? Usually the most satisfying answer I can give myself is "I am a mammal". I often stare at my dog, mesmerized by the thought that we are more alike than different (as he returns my stare with uninterested glances). On occasion however, I am not satisfied to simply think that I am a warm, slightly hairy creature with a comically complex brain.
One day while walking through a mall, sleep deprived, and reminiscing with a close friend about my career of ingesting hallucinogens, I had what was the beginning of a slow revelation. I told him and especially myself that LSD had revealed to me that my consciousness is merely a collection of thoughts and that space between thoughts? That is death.
If this raving, sleep-deprived acid-head that I call myself was correct in labeling the spaces between thoughts however brief as death then what do I have to lose by dieing? All I have to lose are my thoughts themselves. Just like everything about my body is about making more bodies, everything about my thoughts is about making more thoughts and that is why I am the fear of death.
Trans-humanists have proposed that if a computer faithfully simulates the consciousness contained in a particular brain, that consciousness could be said to survive brain-death. Biology has taught me that i am not special. Like my genes, almost none of my thoughts are unique. Even the delusion that I am so fucking special is vulgar. Today (more sincerely than ever) I have tricked myself into rejoicing in the fact that I am so ordinary, because a fellow human being is very similar to this hypothetical immortality machine.
I fear death so much that I want you to read these words carefully and understand what i mean. I have shared with you, the thoughts that dominated my mind daily for years. If you have read, enjoyed, and understood the words that I have written you may have unwittingly allowed my brain to reach beyond the grave in a way so profound, the thought of it will offer me some comfort when my life is truly in peril but of course, it will not offer the slightest comfort when i am dead.
Every day I ask myself what am I? Usually the most satisfying answer I can give myself is "I am a mammal". I often stare at my dog, mesmerized by the thought that we are more alike than different (as he returns my stare with uninterested glances). On occasion however, I am not satisfied to simply think that I am a warm, slightly hairy creature with a comically complex brain.
One day while walking through a mall, sleep deprived, and reminiscing with a close friend about my career of ingesting hallucinogens, I had what was the beginning of a slow revelation. I told him and especially myself that LSD had revealed to me that my consciousness is merely a collection of thoughts and that space between thoughts? That is death.
If this raving, sleep-deprived acid-head that I call myself was correct in labeling the spaces between thoughts however brief as death then what do I have to lose by dieing? All I have to lose are my thoughts themselves. Just like everything about my body is about making more bodies, everything about my thoughts is about making more thoughts and that is why I am the fear of death.
Trans-humanists have proposed that if a computer faithfully simulates the consciousness contained in a particular brain, that consciousness could be said to survive brain-death. Biology has taught me that i am not special. Like my genes, almost none of my thoughts are unique. Even the delusion that I am so fucking special is vulgar. Today (more sincerely than ever) I have tricked myself into rejoicing in the fact that I am so ordinary, because a fellow human being is very similar to this hypothetical immortality machine.
I fear death so much that I want you to read these words carefully and understand what i mean. I have shared with you, the thoughts that dominated my mind daily for years. If you have read, enjoyed, and understood the words that I have written you may have unwittingly allowed my brain to reach beyond the grave in a way so profound, the thought of it will offer me some comfort when my life is truly in peril but of course, it will not offer the slightest comfort when i am dead.
Oblivion isn't a warmly welcomed conclusion to anyone, I don't think; but neither is immortality...at least to anyone who isn't a sheep. But still- coming to terms with the inevitable is simply accepting it for what it is. Once you're dead certain this is the only life you have, usually you have more motivation than previous to live your one life to the absolute fullest. Day to day. Happiness being something attainable but impossible to have all the time.
ReplyDeleteIf you go day to day stressing over your inevitable return to the state from which you stirred, you're simply wasting the one truly precious and valuable thing we do have: time.
Affirming your existence should be all that's needed to be happy. It is for me and more than a handful of people I know...whatever reason it isn't enough for you only you know but I can promise you this-
Things can get better. They usually do, especially with a little bit of effort on your part. A lot can change in a little amount of time, it honestly can.
Anyway, I leave you with this question: would you prefer you had never been born? If not, you should stop treating your existence like a curse. If so- there's your problem.
I hope things pick up for you :]
Thank you for the kind words. I know things will pick up for me because I am manic depressive.
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