Hang out by the coast with J

A pic i took from J’s phone when we were sitting by the coast

Sunset on the sea is a breath-taking scene. The water has got such a special texture that i couldn’t take my eyes off. I stare at every little movement on the surface and i see some kind of sacred connection, between the water itself and the rhymth of life on this planet, also between me and the universe. The weaving waves look like a sea of melting silver. Hard and sharp looking edge, but actually so soft and transient, it keeps changing, keeps moving. I told J “there’s a golden path on the water surface to the horizon and there, right under the sun is a portal…” “the sun looks like an egg yolk, yummyy” “do you see those clouds? They look like a city on the horizon.”

J said “you do have imagination, which we will lose when we get older”

I said no, it’s not imagination, it’s reality. You don’t lose it. You’re just so occupied with living your human life, with the society that you forget to look around you, look at the nature right beside you, you neglect it, you lose the connection.

J said then i gotta come to Arizona, there the sky is endless with blooming colors. Again i said ‘i would die there’ like i said i would die in the ocean.

J asked me why i kept talking about dying.

I said ‘i talk about the death in an aesthetic way. Dying is also a part of living. Death should also be as beautiful as life’

He doesn’t understand funerals. Why do people cry on someone’s death while they should’ve celebrated the life they’ve lived. But he also thinks it’s a loss for the family if the person dies young, like at their twenties.

I said “we shouldn’t fear death”. He thinks we ourselves don’t fear death but those who have children would. But let’s think of it in another way, i don’t know how to name it but, the children are also human, one of all the species on this planet, they will live, they will survive, they will move on. I think my dad didn’t fear death when he died at 28. And i did survive, i grew up, i thrived, i prospered.

Anyways, mentioning funeral makes me realize that when the family cry for the dead person, their tears are to regret not doing what they should’ve done for the person. I’ve been through so many funerals of my dearest people. I know that so well. But the lesson is never learnt, that we can’t wait until it’s too late to treat our people kind, to love, to share and to let them know how much they mean to us. Crying over their coffin just doesnt help. I dream of my dead people every night.