Why I Don’t Fear Death

Sometimes I think I should fear death because if I die right now, I won’t be able to go on a motorcycle trip across South America, I would never explore the architecture of some of the oldest cities in Europe, I would miss my plans to lay lazily on white sandy beaches of Bali and hike the ice-capped mountains of New Zealand.

Sometimes I think I should fear death because if I die now, I would die without knowing how to swim, before listening to all the albums of Simon & Garfunkel, leaving behind unfinished movies in my “to watch” movie-list, before reading the works of great philosophers, without advancing from elementary Spanish, and without making out in the mountains!

Sometimes I think I should fear death because if I die now, I would have to leave without fulfilling my dreams and desires; I would have to leave without having the opportunity to talk to my mother for the last time.

But I don’t fear death.

I don’t fear death because my dead self would be indifferent of my incomplete desires. The part of me which had dreams and aspirations doesn’t exist now. It doesn’t matter anymore.

“But I was late for this, late for that, late for the love of my life
And when I die alone, when I die alone, when I die I’ll be on time….”

- The Lumineers (Cleopatra)