When Faced With the Paradox of Death

Everyone sooner or later must face that horrific moment when vision slowly dims and feebleness affects senses. When faced with the paradox of death... what will be your last plea? Live a day longer, even hours... or save someone who barely hangs on life? I see myself on the dying bed as a ghost that nobody sees, staring at the wooden crucifix and comfort Christ with eyes still opened while his wounds bleed: his agony is excruciating, not compared to human suffering. This unexpcted dilemma makes one meditate with the little strenght left: how to be able to conquer the horrifying feeling and departing without the guilt of having been self-centered? One can gleam and fade as stars towards sunrise glanced down by by a sad moon in a crimson sky and reminisce for a brief time the glory that was allowing self-delusion to acknowledge that invincibility is not immortality. Isn't generosity the only choice left when we lie dying tormented by despair and not be able to hear those desperate voices that asks us to give them life and allow us to live on through them? Should their wish be denied or let them live? Written on 9/27/2017