4: Súton

Súton(noun): twilight, the approach of death or the end of something.

Death doesn't hurt. Not at all. It arrives - in respectful silence - approaches you and like a light kiss on the back of the neck, it takes you and brings you away with her. Gently. Because death acts like this, with sweetness. It is not rude, it is not clumsy. Death is sweet, too sweet. Unlike life. 

Life is chaotic, confusing, noisy, too much, but too colorful. Death is white as milk, one neutral color, simple. Life is complicated, difficult, made only for those who are truly tempered. And then, in the end, nobody is. 

Death is as you see it, without facets and double faces. It is not one to make fun of you. But life makes fun of you all the time, like a perennial cycle. It seems that life finds immense pleasure in doing it. It laughs at you brazenly without remorse. 

Death is sincere, it tells you things are as they are, perhaps knowing that they are not quite what you want to hear. Yet it does, because death tells you the truth. Life tells lies upon lies, consistently, without stopping. Life is short-term, a period of time with a deadline that sooner or later comes inexorable. Death has no end, it is eternal, there is no bond whatsoever with it. It takes care of you to the last. Without wanting anything in return. Life is selfish.

Almost everyone loves life, despite this. Almost everyone despises death. Yet it is life that hurts, death gives relief.

Life consumes you until it corrodes you to the bone. Death ... death doesn't hurt.