We conditioned ourselves to believe that there’s an afterlife. We created traditions and holidays to forget the logic of our subconscious — that after death is nothingness.
We comfort ourselves with a fitting religion on how, where and when we will attain nirvana after our time here on earth. We mourn the passing of our loved ones but at the same time we are obliged to say or at least think that they are in a better place. To appease ourselves. To assure ourselves that existence doesn’t end on the living.
But painfully, we know the truth. That there is more powerful than life. More encompassing and universal than love. And peace of mind and thousands of stories and literature can not negate it. Those things can only make us forget the melancholy of death, at least momentarily.
Death doesn’t mean purgatory, heaven or hell. Or whatever belief we were told. Death, we know, is nothingness. Just like before we were born.
Come our death time, we are just memories.
[text and photo by: Dima]