I don’t think I’m afraid to lose anything.
Especially in the material sense.
Really, anything I have can be taken away.
Money. Property. The “love” of others. My bass guitar.
My favorite music and small DVD collection.
This laptop. My books. And after we die, even our memories will fade away.
All was vanity, after all.
And so the money drops from hands.
The food from my lips evaporates.
‘Starved in Necropolis.”
Can it be that we were so wrong about EVERYTHING?
The tighter I hold onto what we fear to lose, the looser my control.
In the “end,” I will lose everything.
Except this : I will remain. And the funny thing about it, is that I somehow always knew this.