The natural succession to life

Death is always a surreal thing for me. Today we were told that one of our engineers died on a tragic accident last week.

It’s sad. It’s a sad occurence. And it’s not even as if death wasn’t something that I am familiar with: I read about it on the news, on distant lands where innocent people lose their lives everyday, or even in my vicinity, amongst older family members but even then, it is something that I rarely would associate to 30 year old engineers who have lead a healthy, moderate and conscious life.

I am aware it’s a naive thing to feel, but although death is the most natural succession to life, it is also not something that we are often directly confronted with during our 30s here in First World Europe. I distinctly remember talking about the future with him, how he’d liked to have moved back to his home country when he’d grow old to open a small typical seafood restaurant. It’s perhaps irrelevant but I feel like I should write this out somewhere.

And so, we all took this news, blinked and slowly, kept on working, under the shock and mixed feelings, and perhaps meditating on the implications on how one should perceive life after being violently shown of its failability. And in confusion, and perhaps against the natural human instinct, we carried on, perhaps trying to shake off the knowledge of how fragile and out of our control life ultimately is. It’s not uncommon to worry about small things too much and to save our sweetest dreams for later – as if we’d live an eternity.

So in face of all this, I smoked a sweet cigarette as I left for my train. Because when the time comes and I too get hit by a truck that crushes my body and paints the pavement of some nameless road with my brains, there will not be have been enough cigarretes, burgers, news articles or other things to have made it fair or justifiable.

My condolences go out for your family and your loved ones. Rest in peace, F.Z.

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