We live immersed in a terror of death. That needs to be accounted for when we examine our own individual attitudes toward end of life. Which, of course, is a complete oxymoron. There is no end of life. Bodies appear and disappear, is all.
When I like/dislike the world, I split myself like a fish gutted. After all, I am the world. We see how riven, roiled and tribalized we are while simultaneously not seeing that it’s a projection of binary mind, of like/dislike until the curtain falls.