About Death, Love and Life: the thoughts of a worried mind.

What happens when death strikes us?
When you feel it around you for the very first “real” time in your life?
It’s not about knowing somebody that died, but really feeling it near, not about having a death near experience, but feeling it so close you could almost touch it without even physically affect you, no, you won’t die physically, but something inside you won’t be the same, ever.

There’s something about death I could never handle, and it’s the sense of reality it leaves behind.

We live day after day without not even noticing all of us will die, everyone you know will go away.
It’s in the deepest instincts of our survival the fact that we unconsciously need to not think we’ll die, ‘cause, how could you live knowing everything you are will disappear one day?
But knowing has its chances…

Like I’ve said before, I could never deal with death, I never go to funerals or burials, I can’t talk about it, I simply shut myself, and recently I’ve tried to think why that happens. It’s in the common tongue of everyone that death, of course hurts, you loose someone dear and of course it leaves you dry, but it wasn’t just that to me, it was genuine fear, genuine horror of reality, of that glimpse of truth you get when you found out that person’s not gonna be around anymore, and it makes you think… it makes you realise, you won’t be here someday too, that death is waiting, and it’s the only thing we all have in common.

Such as it is, as hard as it is to accept and to deal with because it brings “eye opening” truth about you, suicide it’s even harder to handle.

When someone decides to end his or her life, there’s always a sense of “unnatural” in the air. But I ask myself, what’s natural about death? What’s natural about trying to hang on to life and experiences and feelings so bad for an average of 75 years when you know all it’s gonna go away in the end?
Natural death it’s also unnatural.

So, there’s gotta be something more, something worth living for, and there is. To some of us, there is.
And sadly to others there isn’t.
I could compare having or not the will to live with a lottery, but I would be risking myself of sounding vague and uncommitted, which I am not, so I’ll say this, there are old economic forces we live under, some of those determine how we live, with who, and in what circumstances, if we’ll go to school, if we’ll go to jail, if we’ll take drugs, everything’s sunbathing under the sun of Capitalism, and so do we.
It’s been said you have choices, but do we?
What are the odds a young poor kid living in a roofless house will ever get to be what he really wants?
What if the examples he sees since he was a baby are having a street business selling hot dogs, or stealing, or dealing drugs?
What if the highlight of this young boy life is having a baby at age 17?
And yes, I do have a point, because of course not only poor people kill themselves, but there’s also something about rich ones.
What happens when you life your life from one material thing to another?
What happens if you come to this world to a loveless mother cared more about her nails and hairdo than you?
What happens when the only woman who resembles to be a mother has to go away ‘cause she’s an illegal employee and you’re parents “will never do that to the country” so they fire her?
What happens when you start filling your full of wholes life with everything you can get?
What happens when you can get everything you want but not everything you need?

Coming from a working class home, the issues are the same, and they’re all related to economics. There’s a force working upon you and you don’t realize it. You NEVER kill yourself because you were sad and tired about this world. You kill yourself because this world was tired about you. Because there was something missing that should have been there for you, not because you ditched something, you were ditched by this system. All throughout history people have committed suicide, I’m not mental, and I’m not blaming Modern Capitalism and Globalization only. But there’s something about POWER that moves every man, from the tiniest to the biggest, and after all it’s always about how we feel inside.
Either you feel powerless or within power.
Either you have the power to live or you don’t.

And we go back to the choices, have we got them?
There’s only one choice. One real choice, and that’s to terminate ones life. That’s the true choice every single being has. But it’s “oh so” unnatural, you’ll go to Hell if you do, ‘cause you’ll be attempting to your own life, and deeper and between the lines, you’ll be attempting to the system. You’re saying “fuck you all”.

But what about love?

Unfortunately this is not a PRO-SUICIDE writing, I’m not that courageous, this is about choices. It’s in everyone’s need to know if you make a choice, there’s gonna be consequences, and if you are willing to take them on your own. Of course after you’re dead nobody’s gonna reclaim them to you. But there’s something that also bonds us all, yeah, cliché, LOVE.

Either we have the power to love, or we don’t.
Either we feel love, or we don’t.
And to our tired eyes it might seem we don’t have it when it’s there, that’s the magic of being a human being, we fucked ourselves up as much as we can to then be able to go forward. Like a snake leaving behind its skin.

I’ll come down to this, when someone decides to take their own lives, it’s always about love. Love had, love taken, love quitted, love forgotten, love given, love not heard, love not seen, love’s everywhere in every single form. And we long for it so much we forget our bodies, we don’t care about them anymore, and we pull a trigger one Monday night.

I had to write pages to understand and to see what I couldn’t, blinded of selfishness.
I had a friend who wanted to die.
He didn’t care for this world and this system just wasn’t built for him, he was too delicate, too pure to be here, one night he shot himself.
He was so desperate for love he couldn’t wait for it no more, and he went into a state where his body was just a wall between himself and complete serenity of mind.
So he tore that wall down.
He said his goodbyes, he told me he was already tired of this world, that he had the need to go, that it had been enough for him.
He had made a choice.
A choice beyond my comprehension. A choice it took me several months to start to unwrap, and a choice I will probably never get. But he wasn’t asking me to understand him; he was asking me to remind him that he was loved, by me, by all. And I did. So when he finally pulled that trigger, he felt loved. What else do we need?

It’s all about choices, when we decide to let somebody alive as much as we can when that person’s dying in a Hospital we’re choosing, we’re choosing sometimes over their own wills.
When we try to convince someone to not pull a trigger onto their heads we’re choosing, we’re choosing not to listen to them.
And when somebody decides to go, they’re choosing, what makes them different from us?
How mighty are we that we have to make them stay?
When their existence it’s a living pain.
How powerful do we feel when we realize there’s a limit to our power?

I wanted him alive, I wanted him to smile at me and say silly things, I wanted him to hug me and tell me the monkeys were coming to get me thru the window.
He didn’t wanna do that anymore.
He made a choice, and I loved him, he was my friend.
He wasn’t weak, I know I am, he wasn’t a coward, I know I’ve been so many times, he just made a different choice.

So I respect his choice. It hurts, but he was in pain for us all by staying when he didn’t want to. He was in pain for too much time. It’s time for me to feel some of his pain too, and I don’t mind, because there’s something that makes us all eternal, something that completely gets out of the system, and that’s love.

So going back to the beginning, no, this is not writing about “let’s all kill ourselves ‘cause life sucks” no, if I have made you believe that I ask for your forgiveness.
This is about death, and the life that can come from it.
About death, and the reality that strikes you when you really feel it.
The reality that everyday, it’s a last day, a slow goodbye, and the one thing you should be doing is only and simply one: look for love.
If you haven’t found it, look harder, if you still haven’t found it, look even harder.
One day you’re gonna wake up and see you’re 75 and you were looking for love in everything all your life, and that’s something to be.

This is the most honest thing I can say, I opened myself up, and this is what I see: there’s gotta be love in everything you stand and fight for.
The greatest revolution must come from love.
After all, is there anything else?
You got one life to do it.
Wanna start?