I am going to die.
So are you.
Someday, just like every day up until twenty-five years ago, I will not exist. There will be no me - the viewpoint, the "me" that looks out at the world from behind my eyes, will be gone.
It won't be too far in the future, really. I may, if I'm very lucky, see the year 2100. It is extremely unlikely that I will see 2109. A hundred years from today, the mind generated by the neurons firing in my brain, acting with and acted upon by this body of meat and bone, gut and sinew, will have ceased to be - like a computer disk overwritten with a magnet, reduced to random ones and zeroes. Or more appropriately, like that disc tossed into an incinerator - zero, zero, and nothing more.
I know that this is quite a bit maudlin, but every now and then it just - hits me that I will inevitably die, that everyone else will die, that the Earth itself is really, truly doomed - that in the end, in the far distance, unless our understanding of the world is fundamentally flawed (and I hope, I pray, though I cannot believe that it is), there is a wall that nothing in all of existence can pass.
One day, everything will stop. Every star will die. Every single civilization, no matter how powerful, no matter how beautiful, will go to dust - and dust will go to nothingness, protons degrading until nothing is left but silence.
I think that I may be depressed right now. Maybe I just lack the ability to forget this once it occurs to me.
I talked to God yesterday - in the privacy of my head - and there was no answer. There never has been, whether I talk alone or speak aloud. I can't worship something that won't show its face. I can't believe that there is something after, as much as I want to.
I don't know how people deal with it. How do you forget? How do we not think of this, every day, every hour, somehow not considering that every moment past is one moment closer to oblivion?
Death is not sleep. Sleep has waking on the other side, and dreams. Death is stopping, forever, no retrieval - format the disk, melt down the drive, and scatter the ashes on the wind.