The Acceptance of Death

I don't mean to turn this into a morbid posting. I'm not feeling too well myself and my voice keeps going in and out on me. I also feel somewhat physically weak. But no, I'm not dying. I just find myself thinking upon the subject from time to time.

How are we able to come to terms with the fact that one day we will cease to live, breathe, and exist? What does it feel like? Sure, one can argue each of their own religious beliefs versus there being a blank nothingness. Either way I look at it, I can't accept a bright future of paradise, nor can I come to terms with a blackness that never ends, no heaven or hell. It's all so surreal no matter how I analyze it.

The mechanics aside, how can we deal with not being around anymore? Much of the time, I throw myself into a very large turmoil of emotions when I consider such notions as "Will anyone remember me?" or "Who will be at my funeral?" It's hard to imagine any of these outcomes. Oddly, I don't fixate upon when or how I will die. I can imagine being shot randomly and the associated fears that accompany that. But, who really knows what will happen? (a rhetorical question)

Currently, yes, I want to live forever. I don't want to experience this condemned sentence of death. But, I thought about it some more. Sure, I'm almost twenty. And yeah, it felt like I was going to elementary school for the first time a few days ago. But, say I live to be one hundred years old. That's eighty years to go. When I see it that way, I just want to get things over with. I can't imagine doing the same thing for a few hours...what about living for another eighty years!?

Maybe the acceptance of death comes with age. As a youth, you don't want time to continue on. You want to be young forever and resist most changes. But, they happen. Then, you get to be old and you just want things to hurry up and run their course. You accept it more and see that your life is coming to its final chapter.

I don't even like thinking about getting old. I like my appearance now (overall) and don't want to imagine the wrinkles and gray hair that will eventually come. In fact, that's rather depressing to contemplate. And let us not forget. I'm learning so much right now, but memories fade. Why put so much effort into something I won't remember in a few years from now? How will calculus really and truly matter in my life? Or psychology? Or any of that? It won't, really.

Alas, I find myself getting into a crabby mood. I better walk away from this discussion before it dampens my day even more so. Farewell all.