Afterlife
A small follow-up to What If...
It’s hard to know if there really is life after this. After now. After what is. I know there’s a heaven, but I want to know… Can the essence of people hang around when they are not here anymore?
I am living proof, but I am living quietly. I am myself, and I am someone else. I am living and dead. Not a zombie or a vampire but something more complicated. My being is still here. My essence still exists. But every day, I talk and don’t sound like myself. I wear another man’s clothes. I sleep in another man’s home. I have friends - two, to be exact - who know what happened. They, somehow, believe, but they cannot speak of it to anyone else. Because who would believe that inside this unfamiliar body is my soul? They look into his eyes and don’t know that they are seeing me.
It is the greatest torture one can imagine. Greater than feeling life pass from my actual body. Greater than the pain of dying, because I knew - or thought I knew - there would be a better place for me, afterward. Only now I’m not so sure. Because where does a soul go when it refuses to die?
Answer? It stays behind. I don’t know if one day I will die. Or if, when this body goes, I will move on and exist inside someone else. I don’t know if I could bear that pain.
What if this will never end?
What if there is no after in afterlife?
It’s hard to know if there really is life after this. After now. After what is. I know there’s a heaven, but I want to know… Can the essence of people hang around when they are not here anymore?
I am living proof, but I am living quietly. I am myself, and I am someone else. I am living and dead. Not a zombie or a vampire but something more complicated. My being is still here. My essence still exists. But every day, I talk and don’t sound like myself. I wear another man’s clothes. I sleep in another man’s home. I have friends - two, to be exact - who know what happened. They, somehow, believe, but they cannot speak of it to anyone else. Because who would believe that inside this unfamiliar body is my soul? They look into his eyes and don’t know that they are seeing me.
It is the greatest torture one can imagine. Greater than feeling life pass from my actual body. Greater than the pain of dying, because I knew - or thought I knew - there would be a better place for me, afterward. Only now I’m not so sure. Because where does a soul go when it refuses to die?
Answer? It stays behind. I don’t know if one day I will die. Or if, when this body goes, I will move on and exist inside someone else. I don’t know if I could bear that pain.
What if this will never end?
What if there is no after in afterlife?