We Are All Going to Die

by HelluvaGirl

There was light music in the background. People were talking, trying to get a drink, watching others, going to the loo, flirting.

I was standing next to Girlfriend as we both were silent for a while. She is someone I can afford to be silent with.

And then time started rolling in a funny way. It didn’t slow down but it felt like light made of rubber*. I felt I was slipping into faces and things, drenching into everything. I watched people around me as the most astonishing feeling overtook me:

we are all going to die.

I felt it like never before. I felt as if I could see into their skulls, under their powdered skin and between their bones.

The guy at the bar with pale skin, shaved black sideburns and a long coat, ordering a whiskey.

The middle-aged architect who couldn’t wait to shag the redhead leaning above a colouring book with a pile of crayons in front of her.

A couple of poised ladies in their late thirties, sending some glances around.

The handsome man in well-matched outfit and expensive glasses, who could be an elite pimp or an art dealer, or gay.



We were all going to die.

Despite all the makeup, posing, overdoing, getting irritated with the slow bar-tender, aching with some unrequited love, overestimating a career… It all mattered so little compared to the eternity and all the transitions we undergo repeatedly dying and being born. It all mattered just as much as we were seashells there, blown into the Bar by the salty wind of fate. I cannot tell you how little those things mattered then.

Was it a good feeling? I couldn’t tell because the categories didn’t exist. I was watching something that allowed itself to be seen. I was not assessing. That part was beautiful now that I think about it.

Then I started wondering whether there were things that stay with us all along as we travel eternally. Do we actually keep something when we die? Do we bring anything here or wherever we are born?

I thought about Soulmate. Yet again, it wasn’t a thought really. And he wasn’t a person. His existence looked like a path for me to take. I knew we would recognise each other again, just like we have done in the past. You can’t escape things that are yours to experience, just as you shouldn’t crave those that are not for you.

As I was floating in that timeless dimension, the music changed into a beat, faces and things looked like surfaces again and I was brought back to a place where time was countable, where appearances mattered the most and Soulmate was lightyears away.

*Disclaimer: I am not on LSD.