Always dying on a hill, then saying “ok, this is not your grave, get down from this hill,” getting down from the hill which is not the grave, dying on a hill again, saying “ok, this is also not your grave, get down from this hill,” getting down from that hill, dying on another one; sometimes dying on a hill atop a hill, or many hills atop hills, getting down one after the other, then dying again, saying “this is not your grave, get off of the hill,” sometimes being pushed, saying “you can not push me onto this hill, it is not my grave,” and getting down defiantly, then dying on a hill again without any pushing; sometimes dying on a set of hills whose structures are predictable, ideological, and long dug, often dying on this set of structural and impersonal hills; sometimes dying on hills with other people, with other people, saying "this is not our mass grave, get off of this hill," all together getting off of the hill together, hands and legs and arms and human ladders of each other to get off of that hill that is not the mass grave but that will only be gotten off of together; sometimes the willful-dying on a hill which is not the grave because it is easier than not dying on a hill really, but then once on it, realizing it is not the grave, getting off of the hill eventually; sometimes dying on a hill and agitating there for days, weeks, months, years, because while not the grave very difficult, still, to climb down from and you know after this hill there's just another and another; sometimes surveying the landscape of hills and wishing for a high quality final hill; sometimes thinking of who has fallen onto hills which are not graves but might be better if they were; sometimes too ardently contemplating the final hill while trying to avoid the provisional ones; sometimes dutifully falling and getting down, with perfect fortitude, saying "look at the skill and spirit with which I get down from that which resembles the grave but isn't!"
