Time, death, and imagination

There are no death.- quoted.
Every since childhood, I had always wished for death. This may seem sick at all levels of rationals, psychology and science; but it was the only consistent wish that lasted to this point. My first memory of that thought was when I was about four years old. And no, there are no rational conditions that may possibly lead to this condition. I had a pretty cheerfull childhood, surrounded by a whole intact family, endless financial support, we were tight with stories shared, there was never one dinner left without sitting on the dinner table together, and all that grand family life usually depicted in the media of a happy healthy family lifestyle. This was really no condition where death would enter the mind of any normal child, none the less that of a four year old.
In my younger years I had at least five identical repeated dreams, with exact happenings and endings. Ones I can remember and narate perfectly. It was as if it came in waves for certain years. One exact dream lasted for 3 years, another for another 3 years, and so on. This made it really hard to not remember every detail of it. In first grade art classes,  when every child drew scenery or happy families, whilst I repeatedly drew the apocalypes of the world ending. It was basically a reflection and the exact picture of what i saw in my dreams.
Death was a wish that came without source. And dont get me wrong, I wasn’t depressed or anything of the such. It wasn’t something wished in sadness or in excitement. It was just there. Its like when someone asked if you’d like burgers or pizza for lunch, when you’re not all that hungry and lightly say without too much consideration a choice of the two. In the same notion, I would answer death. Yet I was a cheerful child, full of life.
I never really thought about it all back then. There was really nothing much to think of as a child. Teenage years was a different story. As moments unfold and begin to understand the world; stress, challenges, problems, and so on. The idea was thought in a more comphrehensive state. It continued as a young adult, adult, and to the obvious to this moment as I’m basically writting about it. The death wish was basically consistent among the years. But, no. I am NOT suicidal, if that question crossed your mind as you are reading this. Not that there were moments where I didn’t wish it so badly that I didn’t try once, twice or trice, but I was and am not suicidal.
Death wasn’t something you could pick up everytime you wish to. It would be a waste of time and absolutely useless trying to do so. A few NDE (near death experince or in bahasa mati suri) that I had experienced basically firmed that sense. If its not your time, it just isn’t. And we dont get to choose our time (this applies in all sense of human experience).
The living and the dead are not endings and beginings. May be this was the underlying believe that never gave me the suicidal state. Death doesnot end any agony or any problems you endure. I know this seems quite off from many references, but seriously, have you ever imagined that when in death your soul endure the same undesired complexities as when you were living, just that you wont be in a body? That would really be bomber dont you think?. The body in many senses are gifts of heaven as you endure your soul journey. A journey in which you cannot accelerate, cut, speed, or drop. You just have to go through it until it’s dued, even if it takes a million lifetime. And this is not a biased religious based argument, isnt all religion states where in a certain intrepretation we were given a chance to live again and again.
So why does death constantly cross my mind? Its not that I’m excited to die or something. Its not something I look forward to, as I feel that it’d just be another agony in a different dimension. The death wish is not a wish to not live. The thing is, I do not see life and death as opposing conditions. Being alive doesnot merely state are not dead, nor is dead stating you are not alive. Dead or alive just refers to the kind of medium in a journey you like or not have to finish. And I guess, it came to concious and awareness at an early age that the journey is getting too weary. I was just tired of being alive or dead. Tired of embracing it all. And embracing is not even a choice. We have to embrace all conditions to the fullest, or this journey just never ends. Living and death are both equally rejoiced. Timeless infinity only seems blissfull to those who hasnt yet endured them.
Having thoughts of death, does not mean that I do not mourn of death. Loss will always be detested and an agony, of the living. Its not something we could skip, erase or deny. Loosing someone dear is encruiciating in every aspect. And it is an agony, we all share and emphatize.
It is death that gives life meaning, and as the opposite also applies, it is living that gives death meaning. It’s all very scary in many ways, because the thing is.. its not about life or death.. it is always about between the two continums. The walk, the journey between the two points. The challenges we choose to take, and the patience we merely need to embrace.
 
 Sleepless, belakangteras, 09.07.19