I died yesterday. An anonymous death. Away from the frenzy of life and its loneliness, now it is all peace and solitude. Forty years burnt to ash, what a waste it was. Life, like everything else in it, was exaggerated. Love, hatred, ambition, care, jealousy, everything is dust. Death has no pretensions, no airs. What would you have chosen, in my place? Ephemeral life and its vicissitudes or eternal truth of death? No more running behind triumphs and victories, fame and glory, palaces and queens. It is the calm of death that is alluring and beautiful. Life was just a hallucination.
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