Dear Steele: What do you do when you wake up to see that life is meaningless and there is an inherent emptiness in what society agrees to be success? What do you do when you realize the futility of the endless pursuit of that illusionary future happiness, supposedly waiting on us out there somewhere? It seems like a reasonable thing to do would be to drop everything you are carrying, stop everything you are doing and have a big ass laugh at yourself and everyone around you. Can you hear me laughing?
I don’t think death exists, only change. There are some changes in life we have no control over. Can a caterpillar predict or determine the moment it will change into a butterfly? When a butterfly is born does the caterpillar die, or does it change its colours?
We live on a colour spectrum; on a continuum of change; a continuum of life. We were alive as eggs and sperms; we were alive as embryos; we were alive as foetuses, we were alive as birthed beings. What we usually think of as our final change, is simply a change into a colour that is imperceptible to most human senses. We barely can agree on the name for the colour: is it the colour of ghost, the colour of spirit; the colour of ancestor; the colour of angel, the colour of demon, the colour of death? Who knows?