by Jack Joseph

My response to the prompt “write from the perspective of someone who is dying/about to die.”

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Sometimes we live too long; only when the cancer of the body or the cancer of the mind takes charge can we finally see the light at the end of this twisting tunnel of suffering. Life is a thorn in the path, which once removed no longer inhibits the progress of that which never should have stopped. There is no need to fear moving on; I have seen preachers commit genocide and sinners earn glowing halos. It is the failing of man to think that our brother, cloaked in darkness, is our enemy. He is our only family, someone present for every downfall and every victory. For our entire miserable lives he holds our hand, silently guiding us towards a peaceful slumber. He provides the hope we need to move on, to strive for that which seems so far away. We should not pity the dead. We should pity the living, for it is they who must contend with the pain and destruction of life.

You may think me insane, but I find myself in a position of enlightenment that you too will reach some day. You may see only wretched contempt of an unhealthy mind, but I am the most sane I have been in my entire life. I can finally look into the deep pool of death and see not what is behind me but what lies beneath the surface. We spend our entire lives thinking that we are working towards something worthwhile and meaningful, but we will all fail. We will all disappear from history. There is no reason to grasp at the sands of time, trying to hold back the ever-rushing river. It is best to accept the truth of finality as we journey through this abhorrent existence. I do not pretend to hope that you will agree. It is in your very nature to believe that you have a purpose in life, a reason to continue. But there is none. You suffer from the ideological fallacy of the living, the hope that you have some contribution to this cruel world and that when you leave it you shall not fade. It is part of your very being to deny the truths behind the veil, but I know better. I understand the pointless suffering and I cast it off. I exalt in the realization that the past is written in nameless dust, the present is a disappointing rhapsody of despicable intent, and the future is a futile and repugnant promise. Only the end’s piercing call holds any meaning. Only when everything you have ever known lies before you will you see that there was no point to it all. It was simply a long and convoluted prelude to that which actually matters. Life is a lie, conceived to convince us that we are not here by coincidence or accident so that we may rush through life without abandon in the vain attempt to contrive something worthwhile. Our innocence is all that blocks us from the realization that we are merely victims of a disgraceful joke played upon us by this universe. We are not pawns in a larger game. There is no game and there are no pieces. We are not here to do something. We have no larger purpose.

You disagree; I can see it behind your closed eyes. You are a fool, and you will join me some day.