Memento mori

Recently i've been writing more. Not much here on steemit, but i've been putting my opinions and perceptions on political developments and stuff down to text, and i've been a fair bit more verbal about them too.
I think that's because i've been thinking a lot about death. About how one day, everything i have ever experienced and learned will fade away with me, and become nothing. I've been writing, hoping that maybe my points of view, and what i've learned about how complex everything actually is, will actually reach someone. And maybe, someone might see things from my point of view if i really try. And if i'm really good at it, i might help make the world at least a little bit better in one way or another.

This part of me, the one that fears death, we all have it, and it makes us do very strange things. This ever-looming eternal void is what drives so many of us to do the things we do. Some start living without much personal restraint, they want to experience as much as possible before their time is up. Others spend their lives building huge global businesses so that one day they can die knowing that their brand had some sort of effect on nearly everyone all around the world. Others still use their fear of death to fuel their motivation to take up arms to bring on, or prevent, changes in the political structure so it will align more with their own ideas.
But in doing so, so many of us forget that life, though short, is still a lot longer than we sometimes make it out to be. Eventually, if we live long enough, we must all face the fact that there is a lot more to life than just drugs and other cheap kicks, that no matter how great our financial empire, it won't ever be enough, that even though we might be fighting for what we believe to be justice and truth, we may have misunderstood something very vital about our fight, or maybe about our enemies.

When we read about the actions or writings of different people throughout history, we're receiving a little piece of them, and learn something very important about what made them what they were. Even though they're as dead as everything else, they can live again within us as we understand more about them and what made them tick.
To even think like this is strange to me. I am not a superstitious man, i do not believe in ghosts, spirits, auras or "living again", and i certainly do not believe i will even be able to think about what other people know about me once i'm dead.
And yet, the more i think about the inevitable nothingness, the more i feel the yearn to leave at least some trace on this world. Some sort of reminder of what i thought, what i was.

This fear is part of all of us, and i believe the more we try to deny ourselves from it, the heavier it will be to bear it. Those of us who can't learn to live with death, will one day hit it like a brick wall.
And i suppose that's why i'm writing this, aside from getting these thoughts out of my head for a moment. I'm writing this, in hopes that maybe i'll get someone else to healthily reflect on their own fleeting time, rather than to one day hit the wall.

I know this was a bit of a ramble, but i hope it at least made sense.