I’ve begun to think on when one is gone from this Earth and there is nothingness, and a whole lifetime of love and pain and knowledge is extinct, experience for naught — forgotten. It all seems wasteful to me, inelegant.
The universe is usually so parsimonious, conservation of energy and such, but not when it comes to knowledge and experience or even love. When it comes to love, the universe is hardly profligate.
I know there is my maker, does he keep all of my knowledge dear? How does one explain ghosts? Some discorpor of human personality that has survived mortal extinction?