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Dead skin surrounds you
like a cocoon. You are always emerging.
Isn’t it interesting to compare ourselves
to snakes? We are both constantly
shedding our dead selves.

But also we are constantly dying.
It’s as if contact with the physical world
kills us instantly, so we grow
only to keep the death from
spreading too far inside us.
Maybe old age is just
death catching up.

Entropy maybe
explains us better.
We are like river walls
eroding into death, via
the swift rushing
of passing time.

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