I feel like the Memento Mori has lost its power. It's supposed to help keep the end of things in our minds, but, somehow, we've managed to shed the benefit of this (not being shellshocked by the death of a loved one, or the end of a massive, strange, acquaintance/friend circle) and keep only the aesthetic of oooh real skulls and bones and reclaimed land and rotting corpses.
I know the sign isn't the signified, but they're supposed to be connected, even if it's connected the way our reflection is connected to us by the reflecting surface and light. But we've so thoroughly detached sign and signified we've forgotten the warmth and warning of the signified.
I don't know when we gained such prolific ability to do this, whether it's recent or ancient, but we sure fucking gained it. To just pyramid-head rip-the-skin off of a concept and put it on a mantle in our minds, and be completely oblivious to the rest.
and then we get hit by the bus of life. For some, it's glancing. For some, they're on board. For others, they go under every wheel, and still manage to walk it off afterwards. Some aren't so lucky in any case.
But few if any of us are unscathed. So what's the fucking point of a memento mori anymore.
Christ. This is AFTER I've slept and eaten. Rough fucking day.