Effects
I feel that death should be coupled with something profound. With every death, individuals should receive epiphanies that make their lives a little more meaningful.
When my fourth grade teacher died, I realized I wanted to continue writing.
When my sister's boyfriend died, I was more relieved than shocked. He would no longer be around to continually drag her down. I know that is terrible to say and I am a terrible person for saying it, but I am not sorry because it is the truth. John's death made me realize that I was not as nice as I thought. The day I realized I was just as cruel as the next ass-hole was monumental.
Not only am I cruel, but I am also selfish; I require that death has to change my life, not just affect it. I cannot even let someone die without having expectations for them.
What is my problem?
I would like to think it is my way of keeping the person with me or my way of coping with death, but I know that is a huge load of sentimental bullshit.
My friend Kayla’s brother died yesterday. She walked into my room, ruddy patches splashed on her face, and put a quart of milk in our fridge and said “I don’t want this to spoil.” Then she told me and my roommate her brother died. I could not close my stupid gaping mouth.
Who thinks of the milk in their mini-fridge when they find out their sibling died?
After Kayla's brother's death, I realized that people will do anything to evade death and truth.
When my fourth grade teacher died, I realized I wanted to continue writing.
When my sister's boyfriend died, I was more relieved than shocked. He would no longer be around to continually drag her down. I know that is terrible to say and I am a terrible person for saying it, but I am not sorry because it is the truth. John's death made me realize that I was not as nice as I thought. The day I realized I was just as cruel as the next ass-hole was monumental.
Not only am I cruel, but I am also selfish; I require that death has to change my life, not just affect it. I cannot even let someone die without having expectations for them.
What is my problem?
I would like to think it is my way of keeping the person with me or my way of coping with death, but I know that is a huge load of sentimental bullshit.
My friend Kayla’s brother died yesterday. She walked into my room, ruddy patches splashed on her face, and put a quart of milk in our fridge and said “I don’t want this to spoil.” Then she told me and my roommate her brother died. I could not close my stupid gaping mouth.
Who thinks of the milk in their mini-fridge when they find out their sibling died?
After Kayla's brother's death, I realized that people will do anything to evade death and truth.