We have collectively and constantly created and are creating the world we exist in, who knows who really authored what. If every success is someone elseβs failure, and failure someone elseβs success, how then can we not all be part of the manifested.
What is a word? What is the word death without its meaning to us? What is the word life without itβs meaning to us? Is it meaningless? Does it in fact have less meaning? Less meaning implies opposition. Less meaning than what? What is life or death without the meaning we attach to it. Without the words life or death, If In fact we knew them not, what then would they be? The answer is simple, nothing... no thing. So then what is a word, if not a fabrication made to solve the problem of not knowing. Not knowing is the beautiful landscape of life, of being. We act like we know what death is, and go on experiencing it while we think we are living. The word for this is irony or more specifically tragedy.