Dusk from my old bedroom window.

What Death Means to the Living

It’s exactly 3:33 in the morning as I’m writing this. I can’t sleep, so I figured I might as well write out whatever’s on my mind on here.

Yep, so I’ve decided that this blog will just be a place for me to write out my thoughts and ideas, about things. I don’t really think the personal details of my life would be that interesting; besides, we have social media for that. At the moment I’m just spending all my hours studying for my A-level exams in May. I wish that were an overstatement.

Wow this is actually really calming. I have the f.lux app on my computer, so the screen has an orangish glow. I’m listening to piano music on my phone. Feel free to add me @padishyia on Spotify. I made a playlist called “Esin Approved” with like 300 songs on it.

Life is so weird. I’d like to think that everyone gets that feeling once in a while. Whether it be at 3 in the morning when you can’t sleep, or looking out the window of a moving vehicle, or uhh, showering. I get how people are scared of being vulnerable. I really do. But at the same time, I think that fear could be seen from a different perspective when you think about death. I don’t know.. I feel like the concept of us not existing anymore is something that we all acknowledge, yet don’t really accept because it’s “not time.” For example, I tell myself I’m ok with the fact that I’ll be dead one day, because when the time comes, I’d be ready. I will have done everything I wanted¬†to do in this life.. it’d be fair.

I wonder if anyone has ever died at the right time. It seems that no matter at what age someone passes away, their loved ones always feel like it was too early. They’re never ready.

About what I was saying before, I feel like everything is insignificant in the face of death. Especially life. I wonder if people who don’t believe in life after death would still say that life is meaningless if we lived forever.

I was going to write a sentence starting with “For me, the meaning of life is..,” but if I’m being completely honest here, I just can’t complete that statement with something that I truly believe. And I don’t want to say something generic like, “The meaning of life is to be happy.” I actually disagree with that statement, but you know what I mean.

What I’m trying to say is, in the grand scheme of things, we’re small. But we don’t experience the grand scheme of things. Instead we’re exposed to a solid 30 people a day, go about our routines day in and day out, and just try to make the best of it (hopefully). In other words, we each live in our own grand schemes. And it’s so interesting, that what we actually refer to as “the grand scheme of things,” is actually all our grand schemes put together. Where no one’s story is more important than the other. We’re all equally unimportant.

Contrary to my last post, I’m going to suggest that I’m publishing my thoughts on the Internet because I think I’m unimportant. Only then would I be unafraid of being vulnerable. And maybe that realization is what will set me free to go out in the world and go after what I want, goddamnit.

Only then, will I be ready to die.


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