Falling Fox
How would you like to die?
Dear Felix,
I wish to die beneath the unfamiliar—beneath a distant, cloudless sky stretched infinitely above.
To leave this life as a child enters it: thrown helplessly yet willingly into the mystery, cast naked into the unknown.
In truth, my dream is to die like a fox—curious beyond caution, defying clichés, too wild for convention, and too restless to surrender quietly. Always lingering at the edge of the world, solitary and untamed, dancing in a tense ballet of fear and fascination. A poetic existence with a touch of blood.
Forever, a silent space remains between myself and the world, between my heart and its shadow, between the sweet honey and the raw wound.
Because beauty thrives precisely there—in shadowed outlines, never tangible, never in perfect purity. Life’s beauty resembles a fragile sketch: touch it too much, and it vanishes. Beauty must shock me awake, overwhelm my senses, rob my breath—otherwise, it is lifeless.
This is why I cherish dreams, memories, spontaneous moments—they are eternally beyond my grasp, eternally vibrant, eternally fleeting.
I wish to dwell within that elusive beauty, to live at the heart of its purity, to honor all it demands from me.
Even death.
As a child is cast forth into life, so let me be cast forth into death—plunging gracefully, with eyes wide open in awe, surrendering with innocence and wonder into the unknown abyss.
With infinite love,
Coma