Death

Fitting that I have chosen to sit down with myself and discuss the fear of death. When I was younger, I never thought of such things. Now that I am older, I can think of nothing else. Funny thing about age is that when you reach a certain timeline you begin to get older, faster. Where in the hell did all of this come from? Internal questions, that have laid dormant, now begin to seep to the surface. These are my ques, unless I am still under the heavy influence of drugs and alcohol or I have decided to live the rest of my life under the influence of said psychotropics. Enter the truth: I do not fear death, I fear the idea of death. This idea is based on my past experiences and the psychological delusions set in place by myself and others. I have allowed this. Mix in my ego, the king of illusion with the fight to sustain itself, and the idea of death, is on. What I think I am is now threatened. It will fight for existence, but does not and cannot exist in reality. It cannot be present except in the conditioned mind. It's whole world is based on the past (emotions, fears, feelings etc..) and can only project what it knows, the past. It's only life is in the past or the projection of the future, based on the past. It cannot exist in NOW. I do not exist in NOW. I choose past or future, so guess where the fear of death, or anything else, comes from? It does not come from NOW, it comes from past or future, none of which is happening or can happen. Try to see this. If death creates fear in me, and I will agree that any fear is bad and cannot be real (or based on anything), then death is the greatest illusion of my ego. The only REAL death that can occur is the death of my illusions and delusions concerning the IDEA of death or any other fear for that matter. This takes place only when I become conscious of my existence in NOW and the illusion of death burns away. How many times will I stand in the way of this new moment? How many more of these lower level attacks must occur before I began to understand something? When will I see that I am "in" the world, but not "of" it? When will I begin the real me from the invented me? Silly, silly me. r