Death preoccupies. It lurks in the shadows of activity, always. Even now do I ponder my mortality and when the existence may become no longer. Will it be tomorrow morning while I cross the street or on Saturday when I (hopefully) embark on a plane trip to Las Vegas? Will I choke on some food or be tragically murdered during a late night walk? Only time will tell; there is no utility in worry, but only careful avoidance.

Death is all around us, even when it isn't. The liveliest of events are the most ephemeral -- a temporary triumph over, a pathetic attempt against, the fate that belongs to us all. One and the same! We persist as decay creeps in the margins, demanding ever more attention and maintenance to dismay it. Else we persist no longer. Sundays are best for such maintenance.

There is no more time. The books I should love to read, the movies I should love to watch, the music I should love to listen to, and, most importantly, the people I should love to create memories with. All will be inadequate. I will continue to gasp for more nourishment, but the food and drink will forever shrink away from me. I will die by starvation. I will die by dehydration. So I shall consume the art, the companionship, Nature, etc. as I can for as long as I can, mindful not to take away from others.

Death is not to be feared. Perhaps dying, yes. Death is life and life is death, so who am I to reject or fear such a fundamental truth of our lifecycle? What else makes life worth living anyway? The threat of the end of the party at any moment is the best reason to celebrate further! Of course, not everyone's life is comparable to a party, but I believe the metaphor holds, more or less. I am grateful that in my brighter moments, such a comparison is apt.

It is interesting that as we demand more from life, life demands more from us. Dare I say then that just as death is the ultimate demand by life to us that it is the ultimate demand by us to life? Let us dance to the music of time and find out ourselves.

P.S. Here's to COVID-19.