Death & Co.
Ode to Plath. Times like these remind me of her work and I mosey over it, reading each line. Do you ever mouth the words as you read over them? Maybe, just maybe, feeling their clamour, their warmth, truth or bluntness? Or above all else, their depth, their understanding of the unknown?
I've decided that I'm going to read over "The Penultimate Truth" by Phillip Dick again. It was very unusual but highly enjoyable book for me.
Death, in itself I believed never bothered me because I had for a long time accepted it as a part of life, that it happens and we have no choice but to accept it as it is.
In the last two years, My Grandfather and My Great-Aunt Eleanor have died. My Grandfather, L. Bill Boone, died from multiple causes but mostly Cancer in May of 2006 on His second wife's and his anniversary. Rather odd I think that it came to be that day of all days. I was never close to him but I saw how much if affected my mother although she has always claimed to be detached from the family. Last friday, My Great-Aunt Eleanor passed away, a very remarkable person in my family. The number of things she has done for our family and other's have always been in large quanities as well as quality, an extremely Christian woman. This time it didn't bother my mother as much with the exception of how Her family handled the matter. It was all done very innapropiately, and very disrespectful to my Great-Aunt.
Over the last few deaths in my family, the first that I was completely aware of being in 2003, Death itself as bothered me a bit more at a time. I think it is because I'm watching it affect the people around me. Their reactions, their remorse, and actions that follow.
I've realized that Death both scares and intrigues me. There once was a time not to long ago, where I wanted to know what it felt like. That edge just before death, the last moments. Are they peaceful? Or are your thoughts running? I have no desire to kill myself, but death does intrigue me in that what is happening to oursleves, in our heads, the realize or leave behind faith, god, or even the soul.
The man reason why I deny God is due to the "evil" that exists, and Death. Their is no holiness or godliness in death. There is no ease to it. If anything, death is normally impure and horrible. It is normally disease that kills us, eating at our bodies.
But you know, they are many people out there who can teach us something, help us understand, learn or even make realizations to greater truths. Those who we can share our fears, our dreams and secrets with.
"What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.... If I sit still and don't do anything, the world goes on beating like a slack drum, without meaning. We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine."-- Sylvia Plath
I've decided that I'm going to read over "The Penultimate Truth" by Phillip Dick again. It was very unusual but highly enjoyable book for me.
Death, in itself I believed never bothered me because I had for a long time accepted it as a part of life, that it happens and we have no choice but to accept it as it is.
In the last two years, My Grandfather and My Great-Aunt Eleanor have died. My Grandfather, L. Bill Boone, died from multiple causes but mostly Cancer in May of 2006 on His second wife's and his anniversary. Rather odd I think that it came to be that day of all days. I was never close to him but I saw how much if affected my mother although she has always claimed to be detached from the family. Last friday, My Great-Aunt Eleanor passed away, a very remarkable person in my family. The number of things she has done for our family and other's have always been in large quanities as well as quality, an extremely Christian woman. This time it didn't bother my mother as much with the exception of how Her family handled the matter. It was all done very innapropiately, and very disrespectful to my Great-Aunt.
Over the last few deaths in my family, the first that I was completely aware of being in 2003, Death itself as bothered me a bit more at a time. I think it is because I'm watching it affect the people around me. Their reactions, their remorse, and actions that follow.
I've realized that Death both scares and intrigues me. There once was a time not to long ago, where I wanted to know what it felt like. That edge just before death, the last moments. Are they peaceful? Or are your thoughts running? I have no desire to kill myself, but death does intrigue me in that what is happening to oursleves, in our heads, the realize or leave behind faith, god, or even the soul.
The man reason why I deny God is due to the "evil" that exists, and Death. Their is no holiness or godliness in death. There is no ease to it. If anything, death is normally impure and horrible. It is normally disease that kills us, eating at our bodies.
But you know, they are many people out there who can teach us something, help us understand, learn or even make realizations to greater truths. Those who we can share our fears, our dreams and secrets with.
"What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.... If I sit still and don't do anything, the world goes on beating like a slack drum, without meaning. We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine."-- Sylvia Plath