I wouldn't need to actually die to know where my golden neurons and electricity really hide. I wouldn't have to go that far to know what would be my last vision. I know which ones would be the struggling and running neurons, fighting for the last oxygen to survive, for the last image to arrive.
Because along my days, I don't die, but in suffering, I may be sedated, dismembered, lobotomized, and in all these times, conscious or not, I hide, I hold, I hug these memories, these neurons, these images that under a tree, along a music, through the eyes of love, I give my entire soul to keep, create and imagine.
And indeed, without a single drop of fear, I believe deeply in my heart that nothing, not even death itself, can ever take away a golden neuron. Indeed, immortal is that which is built truthfully and genuinely with love.