Is ignorance painful? Is knowledge a weakness?

If you could learn the terms on which you die, would you seek the truth? Would you live the rest of your life knowing, counting, and expecting that dark mysterious Dead End? Or would you rather be dining at a friend’s, casually catching up over tea, when suddenly your own brain – your body and your soul and your mind – betrays you in an act of poor circulation and sends you face-first into your tea cake, vomiting and spewing into oblivion.. and then no more? What if the last thing you knew was that friend’s face, that piece of gossip, and that tea? And depending on site of lesion, perhaps you knew just then, that you were dying by the pain in your head, the taste of the bile, and the sound of your friend’s screaming… screaming… screaming?

Is that a blissful way to die? By not knowing when you will consciously act for the final time? I do not know. The alternative is almost scarier – to live in anticipation of the end, but do we not do that already?

No living human can answer any question posed here. No; in fact, we can only remember that death is the end and forget it until it comes.

Is ignorance painful? Is knowledge a weakness?


A pain somewhere between my ribs


As I begin to realize that I am not alone

In mortality.

But the flesh dressing your

Beautiful, beautiful bones

Will one day also cease to grant your life its motion.

And I feel sickened —

Deep within, to contemplate the state of Earth

Without you on it.

Shallow breath tries to fill my lungs

As I imagine your soft skin in its clothes,

Out of its clothes,

Pressed against my body,

Being held and holding.

Your lips.

Oh, your lips! 

And I love your skeleton just as much as every other part

You claim as your own.

But bones alone will never be 

Enough for me.

What of us?

You, me — the totality of our flesh and bones,

All of our passion,

And every last kiss.

What then, my love?

And my greatest anxiety thus takes form —

Where will we be when neither exists?

Will I still remember?