Morbid thought

I suppose I’m preparing for my death.

In a way my life has been and will be that. It’s not an original idea, I’m sure of it, but that’s one of the problems with not being well-read; you reinvent the wheel so many times.

But I prepare for death. I look, hope to find something that I can give myself to. I know I need to stop the incessant in-fighting that I seem to engage in constantly even when I do not and then I hope that that will free me to give myself to something fully.

Wholly. Completely. I need a cause.

Something I can believe in. Something that you support and can do so unequivocally, without compromise. Not: “I’ll do this and this, but not that because really, that doesn’t matter. I’ll do the important stuff.” I need to read about the fellow, but I understand Ghandi had the same idea, but said it better: don’t be a hypocrite and take only what you want from a philosophy, disavowing the rest in favour of your self because you think you know best. You don’t.

And it’s a big, big step. I believe that once you give something; it’s gone. For good. So if I give myself, I will be no more. Perhaps part of something else (think borg, if you’re a trekkie) but I will be gone. Even though I will have to live with, in, that something.

So part of me is no different from all those who have or seek faith, save I do not, knowing well that I see it as slightly misplaced. Though mostly not those who have found it, for whom I have a degree of fond reproachfulness, or just respect, just the fanatics, those too polarised to have a view that bears validity, perhaps. But equally, I respect those who can live a good life, be a ‘good person’ (my compliment to others, if I say it) and who follow moral codes such as the religious do. Inasmuch as I’ll preach, that’s a large part of it there.

Hmm. One way or another, I’ll be gone. Won’t I?