Tituli Sepulcrales (Patreon)

A few days ago, someone close to my friend passed away. Life... What is life, after all? We appear here for a moment, just a blink in the history of the entire world. Sometimes we come with a mission, hungry for change - we want power, money, we want to achieve something, sometimes we want to destroy or create something. But what are we but a meager pile of ashes that can barely think?

A few days before the funeral, I dreamt that I recited a poem to the parents of the deceased. Today, my friend asked me if I know any beautiful poems, any epitaphs, because the parents can't come up with anything.

I didn't know this person at all. I only knew that she was someone's aunt with Alzheimer's. And yet, the words that came to me in the dream pierced the hearts of all who heard them.

"Death is not permanent. The body passes, so the soul and thoughts can be captured by life again."

Those were the words that came to me, and those were the words I conveyed. Why? Why did I dream this right now, in this order, at this moment? Why is life so incomprehensible? How to explain it? Let a scientist come, a sage, let someone's God come. I want to know the reason.

But I will never know the reasons. Just like you, probably, will never know the reasons for your unexplained mysteries.

Maybe that's how it's supposed to be... I have a theory... Maybe people in the world confuse life with the soul. Maybe the fact that our bodies live, move, have their desires is one thing, but deep inside us, there is a flow of time, a flow of the soul that relentlessly parasitizes on successive bodies because it has something to understand. Something to do.

Something to experience. And ultimate death.

Today, very philosophically. The Temple of Lust is on the home stretch; I think I'll post it tomorrow. If you want to share your thoughts, feel free to write here in the comments or in the inbox. I'll be glad to hear them.

Goodnight, my beloved black sheep!