The Irony – being on your deathbed, and still collecting bits of advice on how to live.
Life as a diary of decay.
In life, there are no such things as shortcuts.
If it wasn’t for living this life, it would be all nice and swell.
Death as a transition, to a new Universe, through a black hole? How to bring something with us, through that transition, so we remember our previous existence?
Once you accept that you won’t get out of it alive, life becomes much easier.
There’s no death, just larger structures disintegrating into smaller ones. Indefinitely.
Life as a one-off glitch in the Matrix?
At a certain age, the only mystery left in life is – how it’s going to end?