Roxanne: "Look at the leaves. Perfect Venetian red!"
Cyrano: "Yes, they know how to die. A little way from the branch to the earth; a little fear of comingling with the common dust. And yet, they go down gracefully--a fall that seems like flying." --Cyrano de Bergerac


Why does it scare one so much? The falling. A body colliding against a body. A pause from respiration then the absence of it. It is probably the finality of the familiar. The undiscovered hanging around beyond the door.

But then in traffic, one could just stand still with eyes closed in all impassivity and anticipate the body to conquer the ugliness of its terror. Just like how one would anticipate the waves crashing against his knees on an eventide. Or how one holds his tears back with his teeth when the injury is fresh and crimson.

Then just like that, it is over. The present shall be sucked down to the past. The breathing becoming one with the ethereal, the void.


And his presence shall be reduced to nothing but the stone epitaph nailed on common dirt.