By Juan David Cruz Duarte
“I’ve seen the underwater garden and,
Let me tell you, man:
I am not afraid to die,
as much as I’m afraid
to feel like dying every day
"for the rest of my life."
Mishka Shubaly, “Your Plus One at Your Funeral”
No, I'm not afraid of death.
I discovered this many years ago.
It's easier when you're alone
to get to know ourselves.
And it’s not because each day brings,
their own personal tragedies,
mundane, prosaic.
It’s not because of the weight of old pains,
It's not because of boredom and fatigue.
I don't know why I don't have it
fear of death.
I don't want to die today or tomorrow,
but if that were my luck
I certainly wouldn't turn my back on her.
And although I’m not eagerly awaiting the end,
I have to accept that when I hear about the death
from a family member or friend
Sometimes I can't help but feel
a little envy.
After all,
At least they won't have to put up with this circus anymore
an absurdity of horrors, frustration, and weariness.
Perhaps it is the dead who should
feel sorry for us.
The idea of living forever doesn't move me.
Immortality would be a form of madness.
But that isn't the reason either.
I don't know.
I don't know why I'm not afraid of death.