To all the slaves who are afraid...

Once in a while gods walk among men. One of the last of such a rare breed challenged us by asking, you’ve seen your birth, your life and death. You might recall all the rest. Did you have a good world when you died? Enough to base a movie on?
In its profoundness the question that begs to be answered is are you leading an interesting life. If someone told your story, would people listen to it, or just walked away in disgust from a boring useless stereotypical story, one more face in the sea of countless nameless slaves.

People died on a train accident… so what? That’s what people do, they die. As torture goes, the near miss experience is one of the worst for the simple minded people who lead uneventful lives. The near miss experience is nothing more than a phantom in your mind. A pseudo psychological term to explain the anxiety of something that did not happen to us.

And there you are, agonizing over what might happen. Going over what didn’t occur. Because it might had happened to you. In need of comfort you console yourself in thinking that providence protected you. That an invisible imaginary thing put its powerful hand and helped you avoid harm. Now you are special for it was with you and not with them. You safely conform.

You fear. Those who fear death are those who have nothing to show for in their lives. Those who have just being born to the world by the accidental fornication of their parents. That just produce to consume, reproduce to find an empty meaning, in an endless inconsequential circle. Human animals that will amount to nothing and not worth being remembered.

But, oh my fearful and estrange reader…  you haven’t truly answered, have you lead an extraordinary life, or a good life, or a mediocre life, the one you buy at Wal-Mart and furniture it with IKEA, while getting your sustenance from Starbucks and McDonalds…

Have you loved with all your heart those deserving your love and hated with all your soul those who resent your being. Have you witness the Spanish sun rise in Toledo, drank awuamori with friends in Japan. Enjoyed the movements of a belly dancer or delighted in the Cuban night by the sea. What have you done?

You shouldn’t have regrets. Why should you want to be afraid at the moment of death for not having done something or everything. To live the life that Thoreau meant for us should be our goal, and follow the examples set the demanding Birse and thoughtful Kerouac. But that requires courage, the courage that many of you do not have, the simple courage to live a deep meaningful life…

If there is meaning, if there completeness, once you reach that end you will embrace death with a smile and joy. For you will not be clinging to what you did not do or to what you did not experience… Remember that "Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back."  Besides “we are going to fuck death anyway”