Death is a quiet doorway most people never want to walk through. They shake at the thought of it and cling to noise as if it will save them. Yet there is something in that stillness that feels more honest than all the living chatter. I imagine it not as darkness or end but as the pause between heartbeats stretched out forever. No more weight of thought or the press of time or the endless hum of what comes next. Just a vast silence that holds instead of empties. I have never known peace that does not vanish when I reach for it. Maybe death is the only place it stands still long enough to touch.
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