You will not understand this world until the day you lay in bed next to your love and you realize you are dying. You turn to look at her. You just want to say how you love her. You want to tell her it is okay. That you are going to a better place, though you do not know if it is a lie. You try to force those three words in a desiccated gasp through those failing cords. You despair as nothing comes out.You want her to know you are dying. To hold her. To kiss her. To look in her eyes one last time. She will not know, not until dawn kisses her face and reveals the emptiness. A hunk of meat that was once her whole life. You watch the fringes of your vision go black as your body struggles in futility to grab one last breath. Only too soon will the heart you gave to the woman next to you be nothing more than a cold lifeless object. She will not give you one last kiss. One last “I love you.” One last “It will all be okay.” She will not see the light fade from your eyes, and you will never again look into hers. Your body will grow as cold as the world it inhabits. You will die alone. Next to your love, in a room full of people, or completely by yourself. It matters not. You will die, cold and empty. The reasons why being beyond you. Just hoping god is there to explain.

Those who quest for immortality shall not find it. Only those that see immortality as a burden shall find it. Those with the wisdom to tell a curse from a blessing will understand. Immortality is the final test. Those that forsake it will find it dangling before them. Immortality is a lie, for those that seek will never find, and those that find will never embrace.

“I want to see them, one last time.” “I want to go there, one last time.” Common words for one on their deathbed. To experience something one last time before you depart this world. As if taking that moment to the grave will grant any solace. As if on the warm wings of fond memories you will soar to a calm meadow from where you can cherish these memories with a smile. When that last ragged gasp escapes your throat. When your visage is shadowed by a veil, the earthly representation of the meridian you crossed to unknown waters. When the tragedy of consciousness succumbs, slipping noiselessly into the void once more. When the cessation of the miracle of You enters into the abyss with not so much as a ripple in it’s endless sea. This is when you will find the truth. That if there is nothing now, then there was nothing then. A comforting fallacy in “One last time.” That comfort is not for you, selfishly seeking something to ease your fears and steady you to your doom. That comfort is for those that remain. That they receive comfort in their psyche for those scant years left.

But what if it is the will of free people to be subjugated? Would you deny them their freedom to abolish their freedoms? You would simply be denying their right to freedom to preserve the very right they wish to abandon. That is insanity, although no more insane than a Democracy becoming a Dictatorship by popular vote. What ratiocination would lead to interpreting that as a sane course of action? These questions could only become relevant when all visages of sanity have fled the minds of the majority.

Then the radiant figure spoke to me. It promised eternal life, wisdom, the ability to perceive any lie. This being, whether angel or demon, promised me the powers it had, for the “minuscule” cost of my soul. I though long and hard about life and all it’s intricacies. I thought about the power, and how I desired it, but I also pondered the cost, and the implications of such blasphemy. After reviewing in my head how subtle and calculated this proposition was. It was designed to defeat my will, to break me. Furthermore, beings of greater power and intelligence had devised the ploy, any plan or calculation I can or will make, must have already been foreseen, and this being must have planned accordingly. I was a newborn, helpless, at the mercy of beings greater than I.