Perhaps Keats’s immortal nightingale was not born for death, but I was. The Buddha was wiser when he made the simple but astute observation that all that is born dies.

When you believe so strongly and eternally in imagination and feel that in some essential sense life is the same as death, it doesnt really matter which world you live in, this one or the other that goes by the name of death. Is there any reason to suppose that one wont be preferable to this one—perhaps more exciting or more serene or more of whatever you missed out of on Earth or, on the other hand, want more of?

Who wouldnt be “half in love with easeful death” who, as he got older, felt strongly that death will be better than what, on Earth, we call life? Keats wasnt kidding. If it’s not nightingale-time it’s time to recognize that in spite of all that inebriates and plain turns us on so that being human seems the best that could be, we cant deny the truth that batters our loins as if it were trying to fuck us: death may be better than life. In fact, how do we know death wont be more life than life as we know it on Earth?

I’m not suicidal as I was for much of my thirties, but that doesnt keep me from thinking death will be the icing on the cake of consciousness. I truly think this; I’m not being melodramatic. Cant a man say what he thinks, even or especially if it’s not what most people think, without being considered insane for it?

I say with Salvador Dalí, the only difference between me and an insane man is that I am not insane. As I’ve said before, I may be crazy, but I’m not insane. And I intend, as I grow older and more carefree, more humbled by the wisdom of freedom, to say exactly what I think if I think it’s worth saying.

The truth is, I dont care about the shenanigans of politics and religion, the inanities of orthodox faith, ideology, and what have you. I only care about life and death in their rawest, most existential aspect. Only from that does the truest, nakedest creativity come. To me, such creativity is the only thing that justifies putting up with the bullshit of being a part of this insane if beautiful world I was born into.