Without death, life wouldn't precious at all. Knowing that everything we see and feel, everything we are, will die and remain in the past even 5 minutes from now. like some old black&white photo, should make us appreciate fragility and miracle of each moment. But we can't, because we are too fukked up

It's easy to see life as precious while we're still ignorant of the nature and cause of existence.

The amount of suffering that is all too real to the agents that feel it, begs the question if being is worth it at all.

I often contemplate such. My closest friend died 6 months ago from cirrhosis of the liver - alcoholism. He was only 37. We're not even a blip on the cosmic scale