We do not choose how we die. Which is probably for the best.
Just look at the mess we make choosing how to live. Not the mistakes or the failure, but the ugliness, the lack of imagination.
Art does not imitate life, it enacts it.
But all this is artifice. It is the things we do not choose that make us, if not unique, at least human. Like our dreams. Our death.
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4 comments:
Really nice.
I am not sure why, but this is comforting in some way.
The things we do not choose often bring life to such a horrifying and miserable conclusion, where a swift end can only be a mercy, at least for the onlookers and caregivers.
Keep posting stuff like this i really like it
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