Once again, I am drawn to the music of Sting's Fields of Gold. Yet, instead of walking through my history, I see it applying to my own life. I become history.

I don't know my end. Is it this week? Next? Later this month? Or will I push well beyond October 9, 2044?

But, has that ever changed? I have never had a zone where I was invulnerable. I am misled by the assumption that since I possess existence ever since I knew what existence was, I will continue to exist. Why would I expect anything else ceteris paribus?

New information gave me greater insight, but has life changed since that Friday three weeks before when my biggest problem in life was flipping a rock up with my weedwacker that led to a cascade of safety glass from a sliding door?

Mortality was the same on that day as it was in the next day's heart attack aftermath. But, the information wasn't. In the days that followed, the information disparity grew. I have increasingly become sensitive by added information, not the situation itself. My song remains the same.

We go through life in blissful ignorance; we do not have the information. To fill that empty bucket, we pour drinks like politics and societal esteem that have no value.