Evelyn Trista Baik

Yearning Remaining

We all live to die.

“Scars. Life. Struggle. And there’s a scent.Scent of the abstract atmosphere we call death. The scent is everywhere.The scent is nowhere.The difference between everywhere and nowhere is so delicate that we barely recognize their absence. Once we concede the absence, we would also realize that it’s too late to regret it and go back. Then a question here–what if we could experience the perspective of death before we actually hold the hands of grim? Would it be able to be aware of all the grieves from our remaining surrounders? What does it mean to be aware of? Would it be possible to run away from it? Runaway from where? Runaway from being left.Imagine the odour of the remaining landscape after the death of your precious someone. Or even yourself. Imagine the image of death you have longed for a thousand years in your life. Figure out the sediments in your mind. Fear. Fear the loss. Fear the loss of the atmosphere. The mood of the hollowness. The mood of the peculiarity. Submarinefloating the veryinner side of yourdeath.”