I wonder how death looks like. I feel like I am feeling the presence of death. Its an odd feeling, like that same feeling that comes when watching the TV, with all the crime stories. You look to all the human disgrace, and how cruel a human can be, the gory details, the violence, and it leaves a stamp on you. Something hard to grasp. A void. A ghost-like presence resembling the smell of ashes, old stuff, a grey feeling. But there is also a part in me, with a note of rejoice, pleasure, as if I wanted to see those things happening, the blood running, the violence, all of it. Thats hard to follow, I feel like I should be mourning, even though nobody is dead, nobody I knew personally. What should be the actual, right thng to do, the right action to take in response to all the human disgrace? Should I stay just here, sitting, trying to cultivate a certain aspiration for a thing called happiness, or there is something else to be done? But would I have the courage to do it, would I have the will?