All living things will die. Through their own power, the power of external objects, spirit or material, the world continues to go back and forth between life and death without stopping.
One day, my potted plants curled up and withered. That was the death of life.
One day, my diary was scattered in the wind. That was the death of memory.
One day, I will leave silently. That is spiritual death.
One day we will all die.
Death is not necessarily the end. The knot of death is the beginning of life. It goes round and round. The distance between death and life is getting closer and closer. Maybe. One day. Sometime, death can touch the fingertips of life. Life can also kiss the cheek of death.
Open your eyes and close your eyes. Life and death are instantaneous.
I ask you on a certain day whether you are alive.
You answer on a certain day. I am already dead.
But across the dividing lines of time.
I can tell you face to face that you are dead.
You can also tell me personally that I am still living in this world.
Unable to be restricted. Unable to be restrained. Unable to be imprisoned.
Just.
Die one day.