May 28, 2006 03:04
Purity in death.
For when you die,
Nobody will talk about your shortcomings.
Nobody will comment on the clothes they buried you in.
The won’t talk about the bottles of whiskey that littered your home.
They won’t talk about the animal bodies you let die.
You should have saved that rabbit.
It blames you, it will haunt you.
That insect you smashed, it will never have a family.
It will never go to college.
It will never find a “full time job”.
It is dead. Dead as we let it be.
Is that dust or urine smell in your room?
You’re disgusting.
I can barely stand to look at you.
You are the worst kind of person imaginable.
The one who tries to fit in just enough not to be noticed.
Then you let it all out later don’t you.
You scream, you tear…
You mutilate things.
Granted you always feel guilty…but isn’t that what it’s all about?
Maybe they will hint to one another that it’s better you went ‘this way’.
They didn’t want you eating up their retirement did they?
They ignored you in life, and it seems that they are doing so at your funeral.
Is that your sister telling a joke and making everyone laugh?
Will she really scatter your ashes over the Nile, or will she accidentally drop them down the sewer?
How will you know?
Can you make them sad?
No.
Nobody can make someone sad unless they want to be.
Maybe you should have been more interesting.
I guess you’ll have all the time now.
All the time you need to be interesting.
Pungent.
Smelly.