Death is the most patient thing in existence. It does not hunt. It does not chase. It does not need to. Every road, every decision, every desperate attempt to outrun time bends gently toward the same destination. The infant in the cradle and the elder in the hospital bed are traveling at different speeds, but they are passengers on the same train. You can fill your days with noise. Build monuments. Fall in love. Start wars. Write books. Invent gods. Death waits through all of it with the calm certainty of gravity. At this very moment, your heart beats without permission. One day it will beat for the last time without permission, too. Think about that. Somewhere in your future there is a final meal you won't recognize as your final meal. A final conversation. A final sunset. A final time you will close your eyes believing there will be another morning. And when that moment arrives, the world will not pause. Traffic lights will change. Birds will sing. Strangers will laugh at jokes. Rain will fall on roofs. The universe will continue with the terrible indifference it has always shown. Death does not hate you. That would require noticing you. It simply arrives when it is time, as it has for every king, every saint, every child, every forgotten soul whose name vanished centuries ago. You are not waiting for death. Death is waiting for you. And it has never missed an appointment.
did that cow just talk
ohhhh ok i get it now
