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11.20.22 freewriting


death and memory

memory as transcending individuality

how can the end feel this near so far away

I am haunted by the possibility that this is it

nothing "magical" nothing metaphysical

nothing before or beyond

just the routine miracle of cells working together and then

suddenly not

lights out

eternal decay and rebirth through soil, tree, nutrients

I think I'll be going soon

I undulate like the ripples of the ocean

like the ripples of space-time

quiet soft reprieve in knowing

I cannot be created, nor destroyed

and wherever "I" go

I will not be gone

can only hope I journey so completely

that my remnants will travel the universe for billions of years

as escaped hydrogen

or swallowed by the bulging sun

before it explodes and

sends me out in gold and diamonds

can only hope I find some black hole

go beyond the reaches of light itself

find some other existence

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