{"id":3970,"date":"2012-04-14T00:16:06","date_gmt":"2012-04-13T17:16:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/moui.net\/blog\/?p=3970"},"modified":"2012-04-14T00:16:06","modified_gmt":"2012-04-13T17:16:06","slug":"my-mortality-my-consciousness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/moui.net\/blog\/2012\/04\/my-mortality-my-consciousness\/","title":{"rendered":"My Mortality, My Consciousness"},"content":{"rendered":"

For the past one week, I have been thinking about my future, in a strikingly unconventional manner. My current income-less profession is at an end in my country, and I am almost on the verge of laying waste to my plans for local employment in social work. Many times I tell people that my profession is somewhat\u00a0extinct, and social workers (cum natural-disaster relief workers)\u00a0like myself are fossilized or in “the process” of being a pitiful relic ~ on a good day, this becomes a contemptuous, mocking joke for me.<\/p>\n

Mortality is not a subjective concern for me. Inevitable that one day I will kick the bucket, though naturally I’m unsure of when and where. Don’t matter “how” as I have adapted, about two decades ago, a fatalistic approach towards Life. When I was young, I had a morbid\u00a0fascination of death, I had thought it would be fitting for someone like me to die in some war-torn country or at least during my tour of duty in a famine-stricken hellhole. Nowadays, being a single parent to a teenager, I am cautious of my safety. Yet it does not stop me from thinking about it and whatever madness that snowballs in my overactive mind.<\/p>\n

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Zashnain<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Parting with life, the last breath, probably the sudden amazement to the (un)expected darkness. Imagination to an odd feeling of captivation. I do not fear dead, though I think I may have regrets during the last moments before being lifeless. Unfinished roles to the two people that I love.<\/p>\n

Anyhow, when I think about my mortality, I think of the past: the challenges, the misery, the joy, the love, and the periods of erratic rampage. Such awareness sometimes causes a minor anxiety-attack, but then again, that is to be expected. My past, like many others, is not a bed roses.<\/p>\n

I plan to give myself another 4 days of contemplation, followed by a short celebration of life, then back to the reality. Life is too short, but what the heck, I plan to put it to good use.<\/p>\n

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