Mumu's Oracular Vision

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Living is suicide; it is not as oxymoron as it sounds - it is the fire that consumes the wick.

My grandmother told me this - when I was 5 or 6, sitting by her on the bed, as the room darkened with the evening she cracked a match-head to hatch a dubious flame and fed it to the candle; through the thin plank walls I could hear the neighbours returning from work and cluttering around the kitchen preparing food, and someone cursing the lack of electricity.

It is amazing how we humans, young and old, continue living like there will always be a tomorrow; until confronted with some irrefragable proof of our advent mortality.

Then what? - you might ask - live life like you will die tomorrow?

There is a deep abandoned joy which is both bitter and sweet that comes with the acceptance of mortality - that makes every second more keen, more real.

Walking out of the room that day, I looked up at the sky - a leaky roof through which the pinhole lights shine.

And felt at peace; even though I didn’t understand.

Dinesen @ 7:38 PM

about

mumu the milk oracle