Even what we know for fact

Even what we know for fact is contingent, our ownmost possibility.  Our guaranteed possibility.  Strange that the only thing we know for sure is not known (cannot be known by Being) and contingent (could arrive at any moment).  How contradictory are Death and Being.
The I, Being, cannot know it's death.  Death as a state of non-being, cannot exist at the same time as Being.  Nothingness cannot exist with something, however, we carry nothingness inside of us as a possibility, as the possibility that cuts off all possibility of Being.
The unknowing, in terms of time, is curious and displays the contingency of our own possibility.  Will I die tomorrow, today, a year from now?  I do not know.  Will I die?  Yes.  I know for certain a future possibility that will come to pass, and yet have no idea about it at all.  The Contradiction of Being.  Perhaps even the most contradictory.
We know all about death, from watching others pass away, and yet we know nothing of Death.  What does it mean to not-be?  Even our Being-at-death cannot answer.  Instead we lay plans for the future ignoring that those plans can be severed, we lay tracks of permanence that go in the opposite direction of permanence, and we ride both ways.