I am laughing so hard,

that I start crying,

because I am so happy

at this moment that even

tears are gushing, because

that moment is over and

it is always over, and I

was so happy in that moment and

I can feel the tears flowing down in rivers because

I am no longer in that moment and together

I am laughing, because that moment was

just a few seconds ago and it's all

so absurd that I want to scream,

because that moment is no longer there and I don't know why I'm grieving

that moment, that was just

a few seconds ago and laughing at the same time,

because I was so happy

in that moment a few seconds ago,

or maybe it was decades ago?

Beginning my research with the fear of death, which has personally plagued me for many years, in the process I approached the themes of collective loneliness, the unity of unseen lives, of eternity as a transition in time, and of death as the absence of being in the present moment and of being out of connection with others. However, I sincerely hope that many people will not read this account and will have the opportunity to experience their own personal bardo*. Just like in life - at the same time with others, but one at a time. Or maybe the performance has already started by reading this description? If at least a few people have read it at the same time, it is likely to have. It may have already started, and it may end more than once before it starts. But don't worry - eating a sweet has a beginning and an end too.

* "In Tibetan Buddhism, the term 'bardo' is most often associated with the intermediate state between lives, but a broader translation of the word is simply 'transition' or 'in-between. The journey after our death is one such transition, but if we examine our experience carefully, we will see that we are always in transition. At every moment of our lives, something ends and something else begins. This is not an esoteric concept. When we pay attention, it becomes our undeniable experience." ("How We Live Is How We Die", Pema Chödrön)