Yesterday was my birthday and by that reckoning I’m one year older. Yet, despite that, I live my life as if it will never end. As if you’d bag of bones and filth can continue indefinitely. As if it’s not decaying and falling apart as I write this.
There is no escape from death for this body. The elements of which it’s made will separate and go elsewhere and then the consciousness will blink out to reappear in another birth according to its kamma. Who knows when death will come but it is never more than a breath away.