we suddenly realise we exist when death occurs. without such, we’re just going about life unknowing of our own existence. life just is, and just happens. continuing to move on by as if part of a machine, in which you experience all kinds of emotions and happenings. but realising our own existence is to suddenly realise life what for it is; it’s finite. we’re brought back down to earth, so far and away from what we thought we understood it to be. and then come the existential questions, flooding the mind in such a way that overwhelms. an overload of questions that can never bare an answer. yet we continue our search.
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