Posts Tagged ‘death’

stay hungry. stay foolish.


This post was inadvertently inspired by a few people:

  • My dad
  • My cousin
  • A friend of a friend
  • Steve Jobs

You’re bored already, but stay with me on this one.

In the space of a mere two months, these four people have had near-death experiences…or died. I may offend people with this post, but quite frankly, I don’t give a shit. I talk about death on a day-to-day basis on this blog. If you don’t agree with me, your problem, not mine (but I’d still like to hear from you why you disagree! Love me a good debate).

1. My dad contracted a bladder infection that went septic and spread to the rest of his body, gradually shutting down one organ at a time. He soon realized his body was giving out on him and went to the hospital, where he spent the next week laid up in a bed on antibiotics, receiving diagnosis after diagnosis of what people thought might be wrong with him.

2. My cousin, literally a week later, had a terrible accident and broke a femur, six ribs, and punctured both lungs. The ICU bed swapped my dad for my cousin, and another round of visiting hours began.

3. A friend of a friend, to whom I once gave a ride home nearly four years ago, was killed in a terrible accident at the age of 25. My age. Your age – if not now, then at one point. If not at one point, then soon to be. So young.

4. Steve Jobs…what more needs to be said. An amazing individual, to be cliche. A visionary, to be more cliche. But a man as cliche as Steve Jobs may be, is the type of man I hope people will call me.

a glimpse of mortality

Near-death experiences occur daily. Death occurs at more frequent intervals than even that. This forces us to face a cold hard fact: we are not immortal. The question then, the real conundrum to which we have lived 10,000 years and never uncovered a universal answer, is “What is the point?”

Nobody knows. Not your local pastor. Not mommy or daddy. Not your priest. Not your instinct.

So what do experiences like the ones I listed above have to do with where I’m going with this? One of the core concepts of my life philosophy is that we’re consistently getting closer and closer to where we want to be as moral, graceful human beings (ASIDE: at the same time it can be argued that we’re departing further and further from our humanity given technological advancement and overpopulation, but that is to be argued and assessed in a later blog post).

Near-death experiences, and the experience of the living in dealing with the dead, should take us closer to this universal realization, should enliven us. The former, enriching our lives by recognizing the fact that every moment, literally every moment, could be our last. The latter, killing us a little inside, but forcing us to live that much more vivaciously for that which was lost and cannot be recovered, only affectionately remembered.

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Stay hungry. Stay foolish.


the smell


The smell.

That’s what I always notice first about the rain. Not the feel of it on my skin. Not the sound of it on the tin awning outside the window. Not even the sight of it drifting in sheets through the orange glow of the solitary streetlight. It’s the smell that sends that wholesome reverberation, starting at the nose, throughout the body.

There’s a purity to the rain, to water. Perhaps it’s the analogous “washing away” of filth, of past sins. We feel clean after water has touched our skin. We feel either energized or refreshed (or both). Whether it’s a hot shower, playing with bubbles in our bath as children, or midnight skinny dipping with friends in the lake. No matter the source, the disposition, or the quantity, there’s a purity and a constancy to its effects on the allegorical soul.

I enjoy the simple pleasure of standing in the rain on purpose. It’s not that I feel purified or some such nonsense. It’s just nice to feel the steady rhythm of nature’s beating drum on my skin, in my hair, on my lips, reminding me that no matter what happened that day or night, the world continues to function, much as it did before I drew my first wailing breath, and much as it will after the memory of my existence is forgotten. The rain allows me to reflect on the inconsequential events of my life, and just be content to have experienced anything at all. Thus am I able to make peace with my own inevitable death.

But no matter what, even after the last drop evaporates from my skin, even after the last pattering sounds its final dirge on the tin awning, and even after the last faint glistening reflected in that streetlight glow disappears, no matter what, the smell lingers.

when beauty fades


Dying flowerWhen beauty has faded,

where will you turn?

When beauty has faded,

what fire will burn?

When beauty has faded,

will you remember its core?

When beauty has faded,

will you dig deeper for more?

We put trust in appearance,

in nice shiny things.

We adore accumulation,

and the wealth that it brings.

But is it wealth that it brings,

or misery instead?

For what wealth can be had,

when we all end up dead?

Will that Coach purse come with you,

to the grave six feet under?

Or that beautiful woman,

who tears your heart asunder?

How bout the diamond ring

and the veneer of beauty it brings?

Or that sofa and loveseat,

where you kick up your feet?

Nay, none of it will join you

as you lie ‘neath your engraving.

So what’s the purpose, what’s the point,

of all of these foolish cravings?

We want and we want,

so we can take it for granted.

Because after some time,

we’re no longer enchanted.

For the beauty it fades,

like night into day,

like a harsh stab of pain,

like a cold spring rain.

Nothing will last,

even earth will feed the flames.

So for all this, what can we do,

when we meet with no acclaim?

Well I’ll tell you one thing,

that I know for sure.

When I learn of the answer,

I’ll give you all the grand tour.

motivational mondays – you’re gonna die


Death. The ultimate equalizer. The source of so many people’s fear about so many irrational prospects. What if I told you that by embracing your own death you are embracing life more fully than ever? That each moment will feel that much more alive, that much more vibrant.

Most people have probably stopped reading by now. And do you know why? Fear (or boredom). People fear death. They don’t want to talk about it. They don’t want to confront it. The only times it enters their consciousness is when someone close to them dies and they are forced to embrace the truth – that some day, somewhere, you will die. In fact, it might be within five minutes of where you are right this second. And why not?

To fear your own death is to fear the only inevitability in life. Nothing is guaranteed, save the fact that one day your heart will stop beating. Life and death exist in harmony, one balancing the other like yin and yang, like good and evil, like Simon and Garfunkel. It’s natural.

visualize your death

The key to living well is to realize this fact. Not just understand it, but to internalize it. To make it part of your daily living. And it’s not even paradoxical, except for those who refuse to really think about it. And I mean REALLY think about it. It’s a liberating form of meditation and will allow you to feel the emotions that will accompany your final moments. Fear. Loss. Resentment. Regret. You don’t want those to linger in your head during your final moments – your death is YOUR moment. The most glorious one you will ever have. Embrace it. It’s the most alive you’ll ever be.

grim reaperDo it. Visualize your own death. Will it be when your car gets T-boned driving to work, smashing your head against the driver’s side window and killing you instantly? Visualize the blood. Or maybe you’ll be cleaning your gutters this October when you lose your balance and fall from a second-story roof, hitting the grass at an unlucky angle and breaking your neck. Visualize your neck’s unnatural angle. Or better yet, what about an aneurysm? One second you’re walking down the sidewalk, cookies-and-cream ice-cream cone in hand – the next you’re experiencing the most intense pain of your life in a split second and suddenly drop dead. Visualize your body lying still on the sidewalk.

Maybe it will be in 10 years…maybe it will be in one week…maybe it will be tomorrow…maybe it will be in one hour. It’s unpredictable. It’s uncertain. But it will happen.

take it to the limit

Your embracing of death should be your motivation to do something meaningful – today. Do something unpredictable, foreign to your normative behaviors. Something people wouldn’t expect of you. Take a risk, damn it! Escape from your usual Monday routine and tell the world to go kiss its ass while you do what you want to do. Lose control and lose yourself in the act of living.

By losing your fear of death you become unbound by contemporary constraints – whether that be the fear of pursuing your dreams, the fear presented by the unfamiliar, the fear of becoming a social outcast – anything! You just need to look your own grim reaper in his skeletal face and say, in your own special way, “Go fuck yourself.” (that’s how I say it, anyway)

This is your time, and you haven’t got much of it left.

Now if that isn’t motivation on a Monday, I don’t know what is.

so i thought about your funeral today


I said that to my friend the other night. Her face = priceless.

How often do you think of your friends and family dying? Dead. Kaput. Deceased. Pushing up daises. The people around you won’t be around you forever. They may not be around tomorrow. That trip to the grocery store your husband’s making tomorrow? …better tell him you love him, because he’s not gonna see that black SUV before it T-bones him in the intersection.

Uncomfortable yet? Good.

So anyways, I was thinking about my friend’s funeral, like I said, and I decided I was going to get up and give a speech at said funeral. In my speech I decided I was going to characterize her with some of my favorite quotes of hers, some of the things she says that I just find so “endearing.” I started laughing aloud when they came to mind. That, in and of itself, made me appreciate her so much more than I would have otherwise.

i walked into the church…

And I was alone.

I told my family I didn’t want to walk in with them. I wanted – needed – to be by myself. I see our friends out of my periphery but I do not acknowledge them. I can’t acknowledge them.

Not everybody’s seated yet. People are still trickling into the church, the older folks crossing themselves with holy water, but the casket’s up on the altar. I know that’s not normal for it to be up there yet, but for some reason the pallbearers are already seated. I had requested not to be a pallbearer.

As if in a dream I walk slowly up to the altar, seeing her smiling picture in a big frame resting upon a black tri-pod next to dozens upon dozens of flowers in every hue imaginable. I take the first step up the steps to the casket, my fingertips tingling. I take the second step up, breaking every imaginable funeral protocol. But nobody’s stopping me. In fact, all eyes are on me. The church has gone silent, although this is a peripheral thought.

I reach the coffin and put my hand out to feel the brown pine on my fingertips, no longer tingling, but experiencing the sensations the smooth wood is proffering. I slowly lower my palm to the wood and really feel the encasement in which my friend is interred. I drop my eyes and shake my head as a deep, throaty laugh begins to arise. “You bitch,” I say, and I laugh that much harder, trying to keep it relatively quiet for the sake of the congregation, but I know the front rows can hear me. I hear the recognizable laughter of a couple of our mutual friends, and I realize that I called her a bitch a little louder than I should have.

The tears that I didn’t realize were flowing have now started to drip off my chin and onto the maroon carpeting of the altar, but these tears are not comprised solely of sadness . . . as I know this woman was an amazing woman, making so many lives that much better for her existence. And I am happy.

my freedom

I will literally imagine things like this at times – granted, this example is a little extreme and I don’t think I’ve ever envisioned a funeral to quite a level of detail, but for some reason my mind took me there the other day. It helps me to realize how much I care for the people around me.

We as human beings take each other for granted way too often. We use and abuse and consider it refuse and move on – it’s part of our inherent selfishness. We may not realize we’re doing this, but we are – granted, not with everybody and not all the time, but with enough people to make that broad, overarching statement feasible.

In the movie Fight Club, Tyler Durden says you have to lose everything before you’re free to do anything.

Accepting my death and the inevitability of others’ is my freedom. What’s yours?

a new tattoo


I’ve always hated birthdays. They seem like just another ritual to be endured. Another year older. Another year closer to death. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

But then I had what some might call a revelation – that may be too strong a word, but we’re gonna run with this one. This revelation came to me while I was soaping up in the shower the other week (some people sing in the shower – I have revelations). We treat birthdays like this: “Well shit, I’m another year older.” Unless, of course, it’s a birthday with a milestone:

16 – I can drive!

18 – I’m a legal adult! (but still can’t drink…)

19 – I can drink and gamble in Canada, eh

21 – I can drink! (even though I may have already died for my country)

25 – My insurance rates go down…hopefully

Yep, that’s it. After that, you just get older. And what’s exciting about that?

We’ve lost the meaning of birthdays. We celebrate a birthday because…well, just because. It’s ingrained in our culture and we don’t know any other way. You tell people “Happy Birthday” even though there’s not necessarily anything in particular to be happy about. It’s just their day. You buy them drinks, you buy them way more shots than any human was meant to imbibe in a given night and you sing Meat Loaf at the top of your lungs while trying to avoid getting your shorts pulled down around your ankles. In the words of 2pac: that’s just the way it is.

Birthdays should be a celebration of life. Of the life we’ve lived thus far and the life we’re going to live as we move inexorably toward a shallow grave. A celebration of the air you’re breathing, of the work you do, of the friends you’ve made, of the loves you’ve lost, of anything and everything that makes life so beautifully chaotic.

It’s only human to find ways to divide up time. Whether it be seven days in a week, 52 weeks in a year, or maybe we’re talking epochs and eras. Regardless, we do it so we can quantify time. This should inherently carry with it a time for reflection, for internal study. Let your birthday be your marker. Screw New Year’s and the resolutions that come with. That carries no significance for us aside from the fact that it’s an excuse to kick back and party.

if death comes today

30 minutes after the operation...still a little bloody

if death comes today

Thus, after my own period of internal reflection, I came to the decision that I wanted to celebrate this birthday with a new tattoo (number two). It’s on my forearm and says “if death comes today.”

The banner folds over the “if” too far, the t in “death” kind of looks like a c, and the two words “comes today” are too close together….and I absolutely love it. I told myself going into this that if there was anything about the tattoo I didn’t like that I would just roll with it. My body isn’t perfect (granted, that’s debatable), so why should any permanent addition I get to it be totally free of imperfection? Imperfection is perfection, an inherent contradiction that rings true, methinks.

And look at it this way: if I’ve accomplished anything with this new tattoo, I have successfully made my impending death ironic.



a.k.a. see you in hell: part II

If you have not already, click here to read the “see you in hell” blog post. It’s essentially the introduction to this one.

This is what it all boils down to: we’re shackled to a fear of death.

In an effort to delay this inevitability as much as possible, we extend our lifespans as much as possible. We force ourselves to live longer merely out of a fear of dying. We let ourselves become physically handicapped, utterly fragile beings – to the point where we need someone to care for us in order to survive. Is that really a way to live?

but this is why…

…we destroy the earth. This is why we build huge machines that spew harmful substances in the air and spill countless gallons of oil into the Gulf of Mexico. This is why we cut down rain forests, pour sewage into rivers and just steamroll nature with abandon – because nature can kill us, and that scares us. So we create a controlled environment that allows us the chance to live longer, “fuller” lives.

Nature is balance, and we’ve unbalanced everything.

Because if someone gets bitten by a rattlesnake or a brown recluse spider, it’s a tragedy. It was too soon for that person to die. If someone drowns in a river or falls off a cliff, more safety precautions must be made and enforced. New initiatives must be launched to avoid “premature” deaths. We’re burying ourselves in legality and paperwork, running the cogs of the machine into the ground, in a futile effort of self-preservation. We’re burying the very thing that makes us human in an effort to be as immortal as possible. In essence, we’re hiding from death.


We’re deathly afraid of the most natural thing in the world – pun very intended. Death has to be natural for a reason, right? So it can’t be that bad. Sure, getting there may stink sometimes. It hurts a bit for most people. But what’s life without pain? What’s life without hurt? It’s unrealistic. Life is suffering. And instead of embracing that suffering and striving toward something greater than ourselves, we resist it. All in the name of convenience and longevity. All in the name of masked fear.

If we can come to grips with the fact – and I mean truly come to grips, realize it every waking moment – with the fact that we will die…if we can utterly eradicate our fear of what’s beyond the realm of our own petty lives – maybe we can separate ourselves from this cycle of destruction at which we humans are so adept.

step by step

Step 1: Live simply.

Step 2: Eradicate your fear of death. (I will provide methods in future posts – you have to employ them, plus find your own way to cope with your mortality)

Step 3: I think 1 and 2 are enough for now.

Only when we eradicate our fear of death can we ever truly be unshackled.

see you in hell


Have we reached the pinnacle of our existence?

Think about it: We’ve explored the entirety of our lands here on earth. We’ve populated anything and everything that’s above water – and it’s probably only a matter of time before we start on what’s below the waterline. We’re running out of room and we’ve got nowhere to go. The world population is the highest it’s ever been and it’s only going to get bigger. Thomas Malthus had it right.

And if you ask me, we’re all a bunch of shit bags. We treat the earth like crap, not to mention one another. We construct monstrous, overindulgent structures to prove how mighty we are, utilizing precious resources that can never be replenished. We create and use amenities we don’t need. We crave power over land, animals and people to justify our existence.

All in the name of self-indulgence. All in the name of what’s convenient.

And don’t think you’re innocent. Hell, we’re all guilty just by our mere existence, not to mention the cars we drive, the planes we fly, the cigarettes we smoke and the desk you’re sitting at right now. We destroy our natural habitats and give nothing in return. If we drive a car, we’re guilty. If we smoke a cigarette, we’re guilty. If we take long showers, we’re guilty. If we keep the heat in our home turned higher than it needs to be to survive, we’re guilty.

humanity is a virus

Look at HIV. One cell gets infected, but the virus doesn’t stop there. It keeps going until it’s infected every single cell it possibly can. It goes and goes until the host is dead. And the host’s death doesn’t do the virus any good – it doesn’t know any better. It dies too. It fed too strongly. It drank too deep. And it has to pay the price. The only difference between us and that virus is that we have the ability to reason, and this makes us all the more guilty.

A video to demonstrate my point (don’t mind the subtitles):

We’ve exploited what we’ve been given, destroyed what we’ve been blessed with. And it’s just a matter of convenience. We ask ourselves, “How can we make this bigger and better?” Or “How can we make this easier?”

Instead of adapting like the rest of the creatures on this planet, we steamroll.


If 2012 has to happen to bring the earth back to its natural state, so be it. If by my death, and yours, the earth will be saved, then that’s the way it has to be. We need the earth – it doesn’t need us. And don’t think we deserve to live simply because some of us are good, decent people. It takes more than helping an old lady across the street or donating to a capital campaign to build wind turbines and solar panels to protect this world. Human benevolence is a start from a sociological perspective, but it’s too late in the game to be enough.

and the home of the brave

If you’re an American and your ancestors came from Europe, you need to just shut up and rub your scalp for good luck. We acquired this country by genocide, built it with slave labor and developed it with the sweat equity of Europe’s poor and dispossessed (courtesy of mediahohoho). Do we pay for the sins of our fathers? Someone has to, because they sure as hell didn’t.

In following with that, are people inherently good? That has yet to be proven, in my eyes. Maybe so, but even if you’re a good person, chances are that while this world has been getting shit on, you stand by and do nothing. “The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in times of great moral crises, maintain their neutrality.”

the will to act

Now this is the part where I have a call to action. As one voice we will rise up. As one people we will call to account the sins of our generation. United, we will shake the very foundations of this world! We will initiate change in the socio-political structure. Not just in thought but in deed. We will speak to the hearts and minds of anybody who will listen. And they. will. listen. Or they will face the wrath of a thousand screaming souls and be broken on the wheel for their arrogance and failure to act.

But alas, I’m a raindrop in a thunderstorm. A pebble tossed into the water that will NOT create a wave.

Or will I? Can we take action together? – Now? Not tomorrow. Not when you’ve rounded that bend or crossed that threshold. Now.

But as of yesterday, I’m one of the guilty. And so are you. Our actions henceforth must atone for that. Not for sins in regard to a religious entity, but rather for sins in regard to the earth. What can you do to contribute? Minorly. Majorly. You pick. But it eventually has to be majorly. It eventually has to be life-altering.

Otherwise, I’ll see you in hell.

the hakuna matata way


“Hakuna Matata! What a wonderful phrase. Hakuna Matata! Ain’t no passing craze.

It means no worries for the rest of our days. It’s a problem-free philosophy.

Hakuna Matata!” ~The Lion King

For 2 years now, I have been waking up to that song from The Lion King. But since 1994, I’ve been living by that motto. That’s right, I got my life’s motto from a Disney movie that I saw when I was 8. Crazy? No. Genius? I think so.

But what exactly does it mean to me? Yeah, the song kind of explains it but doesn’t really get too in-depth into it, which is fair. It’s a movie for kids, but as I found, a movie with a damn good message too. One that I think can resonate with anyone.

get mad – then get on with your life

Just think about the last time you got really mad at something. Maybe someone cut you off on your drive to work. Your DVR didn’t record your favorite show. Someone broke into your car and stole your CDs. You get the idea. Instead of getting all pissed off though, try this. Say “Hakuna Matata” and move on.

Now don’t get me wrong. It’s okay to be mad. In fact, I think it’s unhealthy to not get mad. It’s an emotion and suppressing your emotions is never a good idea. But think about it this way. If you were on the Titanic when it hit the iceberg, would you spend 10-15 minutes yelling at the iceberg and/or the crew, or be figuring out a way to get on a lifeboat and save your life? Exactly. Instead, vent about it and move on.

You can’t control that guy who cuts you off, or your DVR from screwing up, or that douche who broke into your car. And you sure can’t ask that iceberg to move. Remember, shit happens. It’s what you do after it happens that really matters.

stress? what stress?

Another great way to employ the “Hakuna Matata” philosophy in daily life is when you feel overwhelmed or stressed. It’s a common feeling but one that is so incredibly unnecessary. I love reading the Facebook statuses of college students around exam time. They all seem so stressed as if their life is gonna end because they have 3 exams and 2 papers to write. I mean, really? Is it that bad? Two words for ya: Hakuna Matata.

Just make a to-do list. Focus on one thing on the list, finish it, and then move on to the next. Trying to tackle 3-4 things at the same time though is counter-productive. It’ll just frustrate you. And when you get frustrated, you just go slower. Asking for help isn’t bad either. No one is Superman or Wonder Woman. I work in TV, where everything is about deadlines. But you’ll never see me freak out. That’s because if you stay calm, things get done faster. And because you have a clear head, you know when to ask for help when you truly need it and not when it’s too late.

So if you have 3 tests and 2 papers, prepare for the tests but once you get tired, just stop. If you’re planning a big event and running out of time, get what you can done and then ask for help. Don’t succumb to that overwhelmed feeling. I’m pretty sure President Obama has much more to worry about than you do — and even he has time to play some basketball.

dying? fuhgeddaboudit

Oh, and here’s a big one. Why worry about dying? I know Jeff has touched on this many times but it really makes sense. Live each day like it’s your last. When you simply look at any problem, say Hakuna Matata, and then make a decision. It’s what cancer patients do all the time. They make the decision to fight the disease, promote awareness, and do things they always dreamed of. By doing that, it leaves more time for them to enjoy life to its fullest. Sitting around and saying “why me?” just wastes precious time. And none of us know when we’re going. So stop thinking about the bad in your life and focus in on the good you have and hope to get more of.

I complain a lot. And when I say a lot, I mean a ton. And about anything. Such as about people who wear jeans and sandals. Or how people misspell words. Or anything involving the Cleveland Indians. But I don’t let it consume me. Once it consumes you, you’re letting it affect your life, kind of like how Wile. E. Coyote was consumed with killing that damn Road Runner. That’s stupid. And as Forrest Gump wisely said, “stupid is as stupid does”.

Now, the “Hakuna Matata” way may not be for everyone. There are some people that just love to be miserable. They enjoy the roller coaster of emotions they go through every day. But those are people who are also more stressed, less happy and not making clear decisions. Not the best prescription for a great life.

So next time you’re feeling stressed, depressed, frustrated, pissed off, sad, overwhelmed, worried, etc…, remember the wise words of a meerkat and warthog named Timon and Pumbaa: “Hakuna Matata”. And then, move on.

Guest post courtesy of Matt Barnes

i don’t want to be god


And I would think any who would want that power to be somewhat sociopathic. Imagine it, and I mean really imagine it: immeasurable, unquantifiable power in the palm of your hand. Breathe and you kill thousands in a mudslide. Cough and you  have the baby boom. Turn your head and there’s genocide in Europe. You can’t let the whole world live forever. People have to die to make room for new life. How would you handle that responsibility?

i wish…

Whenever we say “I wish”, we essentially wish for the power of god (I may be taking this to an extreme, but stick with me on this one – there’s a point). We wish something wasn’t the way it was or something was the way it wasn’t. We wish for power. We wish for control. When the truth of the matter is that we have no control. And we never will. We are powerless. And we always will be. But why would we want that control? That power? What good would come from such predictability? Anything you wished for would just happen. Snap your fingers and the most beautiful person in the world is in your arms, enamored with you. Blink twice and your most hated enemy is dead. No effort is required for any notable achievement…not that killing someone is a notable achievement…but I digress.

we are but mere mortals

Imagine being immortal. Living forever. Would we honestly want that? Would we want to never die? This would inhibit us from truly living in the moment.

Think of it: as a god, you could see all the beauty of the world, knowing it would be there the next day because you would be and you could create it. Could control it. You would always be there the next day. You never have the inevitability of death to force your immediate appreciation. Hence why we must let death hang over our heads like a specter in waiting. We must realize that each day the possibility exists that a four-seat, single-engine plane could crash into our building and kill us. We could be shot on the street for the paper in our wallet. We could be diagnosed with cancer and realize our destructibility in a meeting with our doctor. Feel that mortality. Embrace it. And let your life shine all the brighter because of it! For this moment is your finest hour.

“gods envy us”

That entire movie was worth watching for the sake of that one scene and this one line: “You will never be lovelier than you are now.” Screw the fight scene between Achilles and Hector. Who cares about the love between Paris and and Helen. In this one interaction between Achilles and Briseis we can find more meaning than in all of the other battles and dramatic scenes combined.

Give me the unpredictability of mortality. Give me the freedom that is inherent in an impending doom. Give me liberty AND give me death…although preferably not for at least a few years! 🙂

For you will never be more free or more alive than you are now.