Memento Mori

Hello (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[Yiradhu Marang Salut א גוטן טאג Aaniin [[Hello->Welcome]]]

I know you didn’t choose to say that. Not really. You’re stuck with the words I’m giving you. (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[That’s inevitable->That's...]] [[That’s bullshit->That's...]]]

I'm glad we're seeing eye to eye. You could leave right now, and I couldn't stop you. I wouldn't even know. But you can't escape it. Not really. You've come this far. It's happened. You've read the words, and now they have happened. Now, have you died before? (align:"==>")+(box:"==XXX")[[[I’ve certainly tried.->I’ve certainly tried]] [[I’ve only ever died with you.->I’ve only ever died with you]] [[I think I’m dying right now.->I think I’m dying right now]]]

Then thank you for choosing to die with me, this time. It's nice to do this together, isn't it? To spend some quality time with one another. At times, I expect you will feel alone. At times, you will feel silenced. At times, lost. Please do not resent me for this. Please remember that I am with you. I can't do this without you, just as you can't do this without me. How did you die? (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[Heartbreak.->Heartbreak]] [[An earthquake.->Earthquake]] [[A prolonged ache.->Ache]]]

Much of the history of humanity has been driven by curiosity, by an almost innate drive to discover. The unknown is magnetic. It draws us in. //L'appel du vide// - the call of the void. We feel it at great heights, the desire to just step forward and plummet. We try to map the edges of our worlds, to find the places where we bleed out into nothingness. We are brushing those edges now. Thank you for accompanying me. (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[I want to see->I want to see]]. [[I want to know->I want to know]]. [[I want to understand->I want to understand]].]

I suppose I am expected to agree with you now, as well. At a physiological level, we are always dying - engaged with the process of approaching death. In a decade, everything that makes up your body right now will die off and be replaced. When Plato imagined the Ship of Theseus, he had no way of knowing the ship was himself. But I am less sure. I like sharp distinctions. Alive. Dead. No inbetween. (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[And then what?->And then what?]] [[What is this, if not dying?->If not dying]] [[There's always an inbetween.->I want to understand]]]

Libraries are cemeteries. Libraries are funeral homes. For what is a [[bio->Bio]][[graphy->Graphy]] if not a long-winded eulogy? Isn't a history book an obituary column, announcing deaths from centuries ago? I'm sure you've felt it, even if you weren't consciously aware of it. You have been aware of the solid, sombre silence; the inscrutable staff; the soupy air; the inevitable assortment of youths dextrously disturbing the serenity. Even [[fiction->Fiction]] remembers the dead, those who were never born. We raise them up like guwindharrgalang, watching them repeat the same actions again and again. They are captured at the point just before death, teeter-tottering to each side.

Really? (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[I just thought it sounded poetic.->Poetic]] [[It certainly feels that way.->It certainly feels that way]]]

This is something we do agree on, actually. The medical term for your condition is stress-induced cardiomyopathy. Acute distress - grief, loss, sorrow, pain, longing, rejection, fear - floods your nervous system with adrenaline. Your blood vessels contract, choking your heart. Without the oxygen they require, the myocardium of your ventricles becomes weak.

Ngarin, ngindhu barrambiyalgirri. Ngarin, ngindhu yalgirri. Ngarin, ngindhu mudyigalang-dhuray yamagirri. Ngindhu wagagirri. Ngindhu babilgirri. Ngindhu galindyirang widyalgirri. Guwiiny gurragamagirri. Guwiiny murungiyaligirri.

In יהודי custom, each מת is the same in death. There is no indication of taonga or status. Tá simply an craiceann, wuraan, de spier, the bones. A shomer stands guard until your קבֿר, protecting your lichem for the last ᐅᒋᐦᒋᐸᔨᐦᐅᐃᐧᐣ. Nginhu body will wiray be embalmed. You will wear simple תכריכים. You will be laid in a plain wooden coffin. Ka aka koe wear? (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[A shroud. [[Miyaw.->Left behind]] [[Why should it matter?->Fiction]]]

Your life flashes before your eyes. Does it? Some people certainly maent yn credu. It is one of the defining narratives of eispéireas gar don bhás. A phenomenon in which, at the point of marwolaeth, you see a dibaajimowin of your entire life up until that point. (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[Ngadhu nginha bungadiligirri] You graduate, you get troud, you האלטסט your first child, you get that whakatairanga mahi at work, ritheann tú joyously along the beach. The big moments. Your milestones. (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[My milestones don't look like that.] There's even gwyddoniaeth to back it up. A final guwunggan of neurochemicals, the very best ones. It's supposed to be like a bawaajigan, only grutter, more immersive. In a way, you live those moments. People report ngaanha, kakara, touching. Some even say it's better than real pimâtisiwin, hindsight being 20/20 and all. Of course, there are the naysayers. "It's a celwydd," they'll tell you. "A constructed cuimhne." Nothing more. (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[Because real pimâtisiwin isn't poëtysk like that.->Poetic]]]

Go back

Unfinished

Go back

There are yinaagalang whose nitaminikaazowin I cannot say. They have passed, and their geestean have risen to the giralang. Yuwinbayi tethers them ngadhi, so ní mór dom let them go. Writing is indelible now, and easy to wanganha. In my óige, I could rip wharangi out of my journals, banganalbirra away Aunty-dhi names in seconds. Now, I begin to gaasiibii'an their names years before their mayilgan. They adopt sobriquets, epithets, epitaphs. Aunty I. Aunty R. Aunty D. Aunty-ohci-Wellington. Aunty-le-the-little-mirri. Aunty-durrur-yarning-over-te-cryf-and-iced-vovos. Aunty-only-פערציק-but-I-have-to-kua-rite-for-when-she's-gone. What will I ᒪᐃᐧᐦᑲᑌᐤ, when you're gone? (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[Ngamur.->Ngamur]] [[ᑭᑲᐃᐧᐢ->Left behind]] [[Aunty.->Aunty]]]

I agree, of course. That's why I wrote it. We want death to be dramatic. We want the last flickers of our lives to be enjoyable to watch. But it doesn't happen (link: "like this.")[<video src="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXOnjB1CJtA" width="640" height="480"> </video>] We die randomly, without reason. Without rhyme. How did you die? I want you to tell the truth this time. (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[(link-goto: "If you're so smart, you tell me", (either: "Earthquake", "Ache"))]

Earthquakes affect you at the molecular level. The vibrations shake the startstuff that makes you up, crashing those inconceivably small particles into one another. During an earthquake, the edifice of your body houses supernovas.

Our bodies are comprised of ten different systems: the skeletal, the muscular, the nervous, the endocrine, the cardiovascular, the lymphatic, the respiratory, the digestive, the renal, and the reproductive system. Were it not for the cooperation of the endocrine and the nervous systems, our bodies would not produce pain. It seems so crucial, an indispensable part of being alive. Worms feel pain. Does that change the way you think of them? I've been piercing worms with fishing hooks since I was four. I certainly felt guilt when I knew they could hurt. We associate pain with vitality. Have you ever pinched yourself to make sure you're awake? One in twenty-five thousand people, those diagnosed with hereditary sensory and autonomic neuropathy type IV, lack the capability to experience pain. They are also unable to sweat. Pain is not inevitable.

Go back

It is ûngewoan that we are given the opportunity to remember our(after:1.5s)[ ]selves tar éis bháis. Kaua tatou e mahara Ume bat bezala, I would write my own mamihcimowewin. (after:5s)[(set: $typewriterText to "מיר קומען צוזאַמען to honour the memory of Ngali Niinetawind, bu farw yn rhy gynnar. היא תיזכר בזכותה... They will be remembered for... For...") (display: "Typewriter")] (after:17s)[It's not wendad, is it?] (after:19s)[Do you remember where you've been? (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[Níl a fhios agam ach what comes next.->Afterlife 1]] [[I remember the zati garrantzitsuak.->Important parts]] (if: $Visit is not 2)[ [[[Remind me.->Where I'm going]]]]]]

Roeddech chi'n bwysig ki te tini o nga tangata. In soad minsken waygiwinyi winhangaygunhanha, to let you go. דיין קינדער ᐸᐢᑯᓯᑫᐤ, laying it to rest alongside you. Rachaidh blianta thart it grows that long again. Agwazhe' to pouaka. It doesn't keep you warm, but it warms those above. Mae yna gân. Nganha waganha. There is silence. It sil lang sear dwaan, but it must be done. Does it hurt you, too? (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[פון לויף עס טוט->Of course]] [[Nire bakea egin dut.->My peace]]]

(Set: $Visit to 2) The first thing to change is your sleep. You begin to sleep longer, deeper. Often, you will hover at the edge of wakefulness for some time. Those around you are advised to speak softly, to hold your hands, to brush their fingertips against your forehead. The movement of your blood will falter. Your breathing will be at times rapid, shallow, and other times deep and infrequent. Your body slowly consumes less oxygen. Your reflexes slow down. You cough less, swallow less. Eventually, you slow so much that you stop entirely. What appeals to you? (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[The touch. [[The rest.->Afterlife 2]] [[The company.->Left behind]] Letting go.]

You make echoes. Mae rhai ohonyn nhw'n dda, gulbirr wiray. A high school project still in a filing cabinet. Boto erabakigarria. Buidéal plaisteach left at a bus station. What will your warral wirriyagagirri? (force-input-box:"=XX=","You won't know until you're gone.") (after:5s)[He aha to hiahia them to sound like? (input-box:"=XX=")] (after:10s)[Are you ready to גיי אן now? (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[I need more dazhiike.->Fiction]] [[Ik bin klear.->I'm ready]]]]

You're dan ddaear. It smells ano he paru - fochtich, heavy. Down here, the ground is ka cakayasik to the touch. So are you. Guwiiny muguwarbang. Any sound above must travel through sraitheanna de thalamh pacáilte. נויזיז געמאכט דורך זאכן נירביי, by animals, by the shifting of the ground, are too bangan to notice. Curious worms burrow through the loamy soil. They approach your marrarundhi. They are soft, manâtan. Zenbat zizare do you think you killed, when you were dêr boppe? You can make your amends to them now. he aha to hiahia inaianei? (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[Sliep.->Afterlife 2]] [(link-goto: "To dream.", (either: "Revival 1", "Revival 2", "Revival 3", "Revival 4"))]

{  (set: $typewriterPos to 1)  |typewriterOutput>[]  (live: 70ms)[  (append: ?typewriterOutput)[(print: $typewriterText's $typewriterPos)]  (set: $typewriterPos to it + 1)  (if: $typewriterPos is $typewriterText's length + 1)[ (stop:) ] ] }

(live: 2s)[ (goto: (either: "Revival 1", "Revival 2", "Revival 3", "Revival 4")) ]

(align:"=><=")[There's a first time for everything.] Nonahea to wa tuatahi memory? (input-box:"XX=",3) Pryd oedd eich cyntaf kiss? (input-box:"XX=",1) Ven iz geven deyn ershter death? (input-box:"XX=",1) There is a last time for everything, too. I want to ask you what those were. Ik wol alles oer dy leare. Niiringal, gada. For now, we must continue. It's almost over. (live: 10s)[ (go-to: "Afterlife 2") ]

Tá sé cosúil le codladh. It is as de kalmste, rêstichste sliep dy't jo jo kinne foarstelle. Arropa freskoak. A kleyn vintl. Blancedi meddal prin y gallwch chi deimlo. You have room to stretch and roll, and to curl up as well. Ngindu muranhanha, wiray girramanha. ᐊᐧᔭᐄᐧᑎᒥᕁ ᐁᐦᑭᒧᐊᐧᕁ. He pai o moemoea. Unmemorable. Minode'e. What's next? (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[I awake refreshed.->Breather]] [[That's all there is.->End]] [(link-goto: "I can't begin to imagine.", (either: "Revival 1", "Revival 2", "Revival 3", "Revival 4"))]

(live: 5s)[ (go-to: "Hello") ]

(force-input-box:"=XX=","That's all there is")

You are like a river. Your life is carved into the earth like an initiation scar. It wanders Country; uneven, recursive. But you break the banks. Your life spills out, creates streams, channels, tributatries. They map paths you never walked. You watch this. You watch the spiralling spiderweb cracks from your banks. They meet with other rivers, create new ones, sink deep underground. You watch. You marvel. [[Where will they go next?->Breather]]

Ar maidin, dúisfidh tú arís. Ar maidin, labhróidh tú arís. Ar maidin, feicfidh tú do chairde. Beidh tú ag damhsa. Beidh tú ag canadh. Ólfaidh tú fíon milis. Is féidir deireadh a chur leis ar fad. Is féidir leis tosú arís.

(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[אין דער מאָרגן, איר וועט רעדן ווידער.אין דער מאָרגן, איר וועט וועקן זיך ווידער. אין דער מאָרגן, איר וועט זען דיין פריינט. איר וועט טאַנצן. איר וועט זינגען. איר וועט טרינקען זיס ווייַן. עס אַלע קענען סוף. עס קענען אָנהייבן ווידער.]

Goizean, berriz esnatuko zara. Goizean, berriz hitz egingo duzu. Goizean, zure lagunak ikusiko dituzu. Dantza egingo duzu. Abestuko duzu. Ardo gozoa edango duzu. Guztia amaitu daiteke. Berriz has daiteke.