Melancholy Mondays: Hatred of life is the love of death

I used to believe that the elderly had some greater knowledge of death, or else, a certain wisdom that allowed them to face their own deaths with an inner strength. As this, the fear of death, is something I continue to struggle with, I found this thought comforting. That is, at some point in my future I will also find this wisdom and learn to face my own death without fear. However, as I stumble into middle age, I begin to learn that this earlier idea might not be correct. I start to consider that it is not an acceptance or wisdom of death, but a disconnection or disregard for life instead. When all your dreams have failed, all your loved ones died before you, the world has collapsed into chaos, all that might have been good has finally been destroyed or corrupted, then we can say "bring on death, there is nothing more for me here."

'Riding with Death' by Jean-Michel Basquiat, 1982