There is no such thing as life; there is only what is going on for you right now. This moment for you right now has absolutely no meeting point with life. The two things never join. Life, though it is complete and perfect, is just an idea, a theory, a story. This moment for you right now is none of those things…it is only ever incomplete, for how can reality be complete?
We love death because it is complete and, like life, is just a story. In a way, we have a permanent death wish, longing for this moment to die and merge with our story of life. But this moment for you right now has no home, no family, no resting place. You’ll never find a trace of confirmation of anything here, only ever the bracing chill of the real.