(no subject)
death is an event. after it is nothingness -- not the experience of nothingness, but nothingness... which you could say is here all along, like a layer underneath us, a mantle under our lifecrust. i struggle to comprehend this nothing, this afterdeath, but i cannot, because it is not seeing, it is not hearing, it is not beating, it is nonpattern. i suppose this is all clear to all of you, but this afternoon i feel as though a string of knowing (or knowledge of not knowing) has been gently plucked. here's to reverberations.