[o{o}o]
And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.
Revelation 6:8, King James Bible
Prologue
You can only have so much fear. At some point, your life—the world—becomes so terrifying that you have to decide what's really worth it—what you really should be afraid of.
Is death worth fearing? I've been close to it so many times that I've had no choice but to think on this question, and the answer I've come to is—yes. Death is the ultimate unknown, the ultimate mystery—the one thing which is inevitable, and which in the end we are all powerless to stop. Death is helplessness at its most terrifying. But on the same token, knowing it will come for me, I cannot spend my life wasting my fear on the inevitable. The powerlessness of death frightens me, but it is powerless; there's something comforting about this one thing being out of my hands. And if death is powerlessness, then life is the opposite. I choose—I have the power to decide my own fate; even to change the fates of others. Incredible power; frightening power; power that some people would kill for. The power of freedom. The power of choice.
Every choice has a consequence; my choices even more so. Is it really so strange that I fear life more than death?
[o{o}o]