Another old soul

I have always been steadfast in my view that if Death was simply around the corner, then I was ready to embrace it. Though I am not sad by any means, I do did not value life enough for me to think there was something I should try to stay alive for. And then I read Keats. Particularly ‘Ode to a Nightingale’. For I now wish Death away, as Death destroys even those pains which are better than nothing. As the poet said himself, “death is the great divorcer forever”. There’s a fine line between happiness and sadness, and our humanity forces us to acknowledge our indescribable sadness even at the happiest moments in our lives. That’s because we know nothing can last. We are transient. Finite. And so when we see an object of great beauty, or feel an intense love for someone else, in our subconscious is sadness. Because beauty doesn’t last forever. In Keats’ Ode, the poet is “too happy”. The felicity which is permanent in the nightingale is not, and can never be, permanent in humans. The nightingale’s attraction thus makes everyday living ugly by contrast. I don’t think that Keats disregards earthly existence, though. If he did then he would not have such a strong love for Fanny Brawne. And thus, though humans hate feeling sad, it’s better to feel sadness than feel nothing at all.