PERSONAL ESSAY
The Killing of a Baby Goat
A brief note on death, life, and hard decisions
Nothing lives forever, and everything dies. Even things we choose to view as immortal, such as innocence, dreams, and love, will perish. There’s no escape. Sometimes, a sacrifice is needed to remind us of our finite life. Because death, fear, and grief are for the living. It’s the currency in which we make it all worthwhile. The slap in the face that keeps you awake.
I’m under a blue sky and on my way to “The Gates”, a portal to the highlands overlooking the distant sea. The January rains are over, and if you stay out of the shades, you can lie to yourself about spring being early.
Peaks with ancient names surround the valley beneath me, and trails climb on slopes in every direction like veins on a leaf. Some are known, others forgotten, and some are only for those who never stop searching. I’ve conquered all I could find, always returning as a different man. This path is torn by centuries of rain and landslides, and its steep character shifts radically with each stage, going from stoned stairs to crawling under trees and searching for vanished marks. I am here because I’m triggered by the challenge of pushing upward without slowing down. It’s mind-cleansing, and the view from the top always feels more deserving if I…
