Hello my fellow existentialist humanists, I am Axat and yesterday I had a dream about the various people whose deaths I was informed by someone who had witnessed it. I guess that includes my father, because even though someone must have talked to me about it, I was just over 2 years old and therefore unable to comprehend and/or remember any conversations from that period of time.
https://youtu.be/RCLrD_uW3uQ
The earliest death I remember hearing about was a fellow student at school, then a college senior, both drownings, another college senior who was additionally accompanied at the time by his junior and my senior who survived the crash, my maternal grandmother, whose body was the second one I consigned to flames after dad's, followed by growing up and coming to terms with the fact that we are mortal beings who will die in one way or another. Which is kind of the time during which I developed my thoughts on 6hourism, which means living the best possible life in the moment because it seems to me that even the immediately upcoming future paths are beset on all sides by the inequities of greedy humans and the tyrrany of Mother Earth. Unpredictable as life is, I always have high hopes for the future, thanks Pink Floyd, and I use the past as a learning experience to be better prepared physically, mentally, and emotionally, for the future, which is coming on, it's coming on, it's coming on...in any case, I live every day mostly routinely, because children need a semblance of stability in their formative years, and also because i love my job, which involves creativity with words. I am adding video content to my professional sphere as an ongoing process, but change takes time even though it is constant. which sounds paradoxical but actually is not at all confusing. Convoluted sentences grow in my brain incessantly, and I manage to put them down with more efficiency than ever before due to our digital lives. Pen and paper was great but QWERTY is abso awesomax. Case in point - this nearly stream of concsiousness script about how death triggers a cavalcade of thoughts that spiral here and there bouncing around in my skull while I play with Adwitya and teach her to be a good human above everything else. After all, our genes live on in our offspring, and our memories live on in their minds, no?
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