I metaphorically ‘had died’ some years back.
Do not look for it. It is not a place of joy, but a setting of a ghost story: bittersweet, cold, all-knowing, where young green leaves instantly turn into burning decay, and where laughter always ends in a hesitant whisper.
If you have a life ahead of you yet – don’t jettison yourself overboard into the boundless nothingness of the Knowing.
Not yet. Forget the search. Live.
There’s no chance for us
It’s all decided for us
Who wants to live forever?