Half of the time I look forward to my death, it doesn’t scare me since I don’t see the real point of my life, what scares me is if my agony would be slow and painful.
But then what? I just stop existing and it’s like I fell asleep? Do I see light? Darkness? Nothing? What is nothing?
I don’t know what - if anything- comes after. But I do like the Buddhist analogy of death being like a wave falling back into the sea. The wave is gone but the matter and energy that constituted it survives and are eventually repurposed for the formation of another wave. Or a bird, or a tree, or some other part of the natural world.