Aphorism #3

Love, then, is an act of stupidity, which either traps you in a tangled net, or captures you midway while falling from the pinnacle of despair.

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Death: I'm not telling you what to do.

A.: At least tell me which way to go.

Death: HA HA! you ask the stupidest of questions.

A.: Why was that a stupid question?

Death: Surely, death is a narrow path that, without hope, is as certain as your birth?

A.: (speechless) But there must be a good way to die!

Death: Ah. Of course, by your standards, perhaps. (He looks away, towards the city found below the cliff they are on.) Look at all the lights.

A.: What about them.

Death: It's a heavenly sight isn't it. Once there was darkness everywhere and I could lurk in the shadows and come to people like a thief. But now. It's getting harder.

A.: And?

Death: There is no good way to die. Only better ways to live.

A.: Tell that to the aborted foetuses, the famine victims of African Sahara; the drowning Burmese families, HIV positive children!

Death: I just do what I must do.

A: To what end!?

Death: To the end of the collective experience of humanity. We must all die. For the sake of those who may one day live to understand what death means. To know me.

A: I don't think I can understand.

Death: You won't, (takes a good look at him) your time is not up yet. We will meet again A. (readies to leave)

A: Wait. One last question.

Death: This had better be good.

A: If I want to kill you, what must I do?

Death: (smirks) No one can. I'm immortal.

A: Ah. Then let us meet more often, since you are always around. I have more questions to ask.

Death: ...

A: I doubt you have a choice. Shall we dance to celebrate the brokering of this contract?

Death: I forgot to tell you something.

A: What?

Death: I am you.

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