Memento Mori 7-28 ❲2025❳

Dum spiro, spero. Memento mori. (While I breathe, I hope. Remember you must die.) A wilting sunflower in a glass of water, with a pocket watch showing 11:59 PM. Caption: “7-28. Perfect numbers, imperfect time. Don't wait.”

Remember You Will Die: Notes from the 28th of July

I write this not to depress you, but to sober you. To wake you from the trance of the trivial.

Today is July 28th. The air is thick with summer; the crickets are loud, and the year is more than halfway over. But in the grand calendar of the universe, this date means nothing. It is an inch of sand falling through an infinite hourglass. memento mori 7-28

“I will die. But not today. Today, I will live as if I am already grateful for the memory of this moment.”

You are still here.

Write this on a sticky note and place it on your bathroom mirror: Dum spiro, spero

Take a coin. Flip it. Heads, you live another 50 years. Tails, you die tonight at midnight.

Remember death.

Every human being has two dates carved into their stone: the birth and the death. That dash in the middle—the hyphen—is everything. Today, July 28th, is a dot on that dash for you. Is this dot a good one? Are you spending it scrolling, worrying, resenting? Or are you spending it alive ? Remember you must die

I have interpreted this as a reflective journal entry, philosophical essay, or script for a video/social media post dated July 28th.

“You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.” – Marcus Aurelius