One morning in Cordoba, brushing my teeth, I thought again of eternity and of absolutely ceasing to exist and I admit I cannot exist conscious of either inevitability—the only way in which I can function is to distract myself from how we all must end. That this idea came to the surface again only proved to me I see the end of this trip—on some level—as a little death, a preview of the real thing, the end of choices, the irrelevance of regret.
Still Unenlightened,