Death, it turns out, does not respect our plans for personal improvement. It does not rank us as human beings or decide who’s deserving of its favors and who isn’t.
Often it repulses those who flirt with it daily and who long—half or whole-heartedly—for its embrace. Often it rapes those who ignore it or spend years engaging its enemy, life. We must get away from the idea that there is justice. We must get away from the idea that the universe is benevolent—either to the good or to the “healthy.” The only person to whom the universe is benevolent is the person who squeezes all life into a chestnut in his palm and squeezes its juice—the one who grabs quality regardless of quantity.
This is why I live the way I do.