essay<\/a>, \u201cthe cutting edge of time: erosion of home,\u201d terry tempest williams explains, \u201cmy delight in being forgotten is rooted in the belief that i don\u2019t matter in the larger scheme of things, only that i tried my best to be a good human, failing repeatedly, but trying again with the soul-settling knowledge that my body will return to the desert.\u201d i relate intensely to williams\u2019 sentiments, i do not fear the violent majesty of the environments around me, instead i marvel at them, allowing their sheer danger to humble me again and again and again. <\/p>\ni eagerly anticipate my return to the soil. it takes every bit of willpower i have not to turn my self-proclaimed quotable saying into my twitter bio, however that would probably worry my friends a little too much. in fact most of my friends and family are uncomfortable with my fascination with decomposition. it is apparently not socially acceptable to romanticize one\u2019s own decay, although the popularity of hozier\u2019s music would indicate otherwise. it is not necessarily that i am eager to die, in fact it is not that at all. it is simply that i find a deep and almost indescribable comfort in knowing that one day my pains and worries will have dissolved into micronutrients in soil, feeding that which is so old my lifetime was a mere blink of an eye in its longevity. <\/p>\n
in a way this is my own deeply personal form of existentialism. in a similar vein, mary shelley expressed her own sorrows and beliefs about the position of her own life through her most famous work, “frankenstein.” with a gruesome tale about the violence of childhood neglect and the dangers of necromancy, shelley birthed science fiction, an entirely new genre of literature at the time. shelley was a woman far more educated in the intricacies of both decomposition and composition than i am, yet i cannot help but compare my convictions to hers.<\/p>\n
shelley was 18 years old when she crafted what would become her most famous novel, and i was the same age when i first discovered my fascination. in a way, we are two sides of the same coin. while we both are eager to create new life from death, hers is decidedly unnatural, whereas mine is as natural as it can possibly get.<\/p>\n
in response to the trauma of losing of her child, she sought to defy nature, bring back the dead, and fight against the very laws of the earth itself. victor frankenstein, and in a manner of speaking, shelley herself, sought to steal that last lingering light of life from the dead, if only to savor its warmth for a moment more. i, on the other hand, seek the exact opposite. i desire to open my hand, releasing those tiny sparkles back into the wild.<\/p>\n
although i will not be able to see it, i have a strangely strong conviction that it will happen as i hope. disagreements notwithstanding, shelley and i share a common fear of, enamoration with, and disillusionment with death. <\/p>\n
i wonder, if i had the chance to offer, would she like to decompose with me? <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
a personal essay about life, death, and decomposition. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":11758,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[5034],"tags":[5167,373,715,2942],"storyfest_categories":[],"class_list":["post-27134","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-storyfest-2023","tag-compost","tag-earth","tag-essay","tag-soil"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n
essay | musings on decomposition, and returning to the earth - planet forward<\/title>\n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n \n\t \n\t \n\t \n