If oneness is a team effort, death is a team of slackers, yet despite this, one that wins like clockwork. A zombie on the run is an act of oneness if reanimated meat only ever desires but one thing: a different type of oneness: an existence driven and defined by the procurement of one thing: fresh off the bone human meat, of course. So how does death do it? Diseases never stop working. They spread but do not stop working. Death is single minded like this and it does not get distracted by items of vitality. Always on to the next. Styx is frozen solid but the river cannot melt; like the gaps in a vile of sand but more so, there’s zero space for regret to breathe in death, and until the world moves you for you, there’s only one position to stay in, your death pose: an ever devolving state of deterioration and categorical extrapolation into one becoming something different. Deviation from the mean in perpetual deterioration, or is there a finish line to the breakdown? For that matter, is it deterioration, or is it a breakdown? As in, is the end game for a product, or for a waste? If it’s a breakdown: you become something so much further away and removed from what you were when death started that you become continually smaller until you’re your own building block and hence you become recycled, like the circle of life motif prescribed in the lion king. Is that what it is? The real world and how it works? I don’t know. Very essential question but I don’t know; I’m not a scientist. My best stab at an answer to the question: death is a cinch without exception; it’s impossible to fuck up and impossible to avoid.