Death

As I am aging, thoughts of death do flit through my mind. After all it is a major life event and I do want to prepare for it. Some say that is what life is about...preparing for death. Its hard to imagine a world without me. I work, I fight for the underdog, I walk the streets, I shop, I write, I love my children...yet someone else will walk the streets for me, fight, shop, write and love their children. But no one will do it quite like me.
No one wants to die, thats why Doctors and Pharmaceutical companies are so profitable. Yet it is inevitable. I guess just staving off the inevitable is what most of us can do.

I know that I have lived most of my life doing what I wanted to do. I have no regrets but somehow I want to share those experiences with others to inspire, to learn from and to share.

My preparation will be not to make it too messy. I mean I don't want to go in my bed and no one find me for weeks. Then my children would have to clean up the stinking mess plus get rid of my valuables. They may throw out things just because the place smells so bad. When I feel my health failing (hopefully I will be able to feel it), I will let the children know and decide on an appropriate place to spend my last days.

So till then...I will live and try to experience life while I have got it.

This video captures a lot of the way I feel. It has some static at first which was meant by the editors...







John Donne

72. "Death be not proud, though some have called thee"

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, 5
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell, 10
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

Dinosauria

Starting out my new and improved posts with my favorite video. Charles Bukowski, Beat Poet and Prophet you can find his biography here. I admire his unwillingness to bow to the system.