I have been thinking recently, and it struck me, that to most people death is nothing but an escape. Suicide is not only a means to end ones life but also it acts a vent for ones emotions. Even I have sometimes felt so much grief in my life that I have wished to end it. To me, again it was nothing more than an escape, a release hatch for my emotions.
I guess, we really do underestimate death. In actuality, I believe that death is like an adventure. One that each one of us explore it for ourselves, perhaps enjoy it or be sucked into a vortex of hate and pain, yet it still is an adventure. I do not know if there is a heaven or hell however, at least we all know for sure that death is a very real thing.
The beauty of death lies in the fact that it is inevitable, we may prolong it but it always comes. Man’s continued struggle with this problem has made him foolish, perhaps even arrogant in a way. Deep down inside we are all control freaks and nothing would make us happier that to be able to control the world’s most powerful force, nature itself.
Death comes swift and sure. It does its deed and lets us deal with it. Considering it a scapegoat for our problems would be more than sufficient. We put so much faith in death for answering our problems that all the physiologists in the world are considered useless. Death is far reaching and has enormous hands.
Within the reams of our worlds, death is nothing but something to look forward to. Without death, there is nothing more to expect in our lives. It is the dead end, the omega of our lives. Considering suicide, that is, treating death like a scapegoat is merely an insult to its abilities. We have to live with our problems because we really get one life, it that goes there are no more second chances.