I am happy as fuck that I am going to die one day. What I like to consider is that fundamentally, I am made of the same stuff as everything else. When I die, the chemical reactions responsible for cognition may stop taking place, but all of my components will be in some way incorporated in the natural environment (as they are right now, but I'm currently serving a different function to what I will be doing when I'm dead).
In fact, I don't assume in any way that I am not already the natural environment. My behaviour is independent from other elements of the environment, but that's only because the chemicals which would be doing something else if I was not here in this form (that sounds more religious than it is) are currently rigged up to make this particular sack of skin want to eat, drink, sleep and fuck. When I do die, those components will be operating elsewhere, and technically, I will still be knocking about, just in the dust, soil and air. Maybe even inside another living organism, but that's fine, because on the terms I tend to view things, I will have just eaten myself. In fact, on the terms I tend to view things, I am actually already knocking about everywhere at this very moment - even inside MA's beer and Nate's curls. On his head.
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A man walks into a zoo. There's nothing there but one dog. It was a shih-tzu.
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