We live in an external world that is constantly undergoing alteration. Like every splendid and delicate aspect of nature, we are all fated to crumble and fall akin to the magenta leaves of autumn foliage. Until we die, we act as the architect of our diversified internal world. Our dreams and desires can lull us or inspire us.

A person who accepts that they are condemned to death and who holds no belief in a god created afterlife is a realist.

Although we amplify our cognitive degree of awareness and enhance our appreciation for life experiences by maturing, it also brings us death. Facing a certain death forces a person to examine the worthiness of continuing to live.

A principled life begins by accepting the evident truth that we must die. Death becomes us. Knowledge of the impermanence of our existence reassures us that how we live does make a difference. Because our allotted time for living is finite, we must make the most of each day.

All writers trammeling the ground of self-examining must explore their physical and mental constrictions and determine what awaits them, if anything at all, after the cinereous body returns to dust. Writing does not demand that one prefer death to life, but any writer seeking enlightenment might elect to assess the possibility of death releasing them from the conscripts of crippling dissatisfaction with their present way of living.

Every road leads to sorrow. All aspects that make life beautiful – friendship, love, art, and truth – will end. All aspects that make life hideous – pain, poverty, illness, betrayal, hate, crime, war – will also end. The fact that human life is a mere blip on a cosmic scale is no reason for personal angst as we came from nothingness and will return to the great void that birthed us.

Time is quixotic because it can torment us. When we have insufficient stimulus to fill our lives, we resent the relentless quality of time, and we engage in activities designed to “kill time.” Time that passes slowly creates insufferable boredom; time that passes to quickly makes us aware of our accelerated death march. A person’s perspective on time depends mostly on what they are most afraid of, boredom or death.

There are innumerable unanswerable questions that plague humankind. It is permissible to accept the unknown and unknowable as establishing the outer limits of human possibilities. Unanswerable questions – questions with no provable correct answers – describe the boundaries of human existence. All we know for sure is that everything that is alive will die.

Nature is never static. It is always changing. Everything is in a constant state of flux. Nothing endures. Everything is in the process of either coming into being or expiring.