On death and dying...
Death can't possibly be the way everyone describes it. There can't be a warm, welcoming light. The entire idea of death is shrouded in all of this darkness, all the unknown, but for some reason the only thing that seems to be universal about it is the light. "Don't go into the light!" people shout in movies. Why? Is it really that big of a deal that we have to hide our fear of death behind a beam of light? Everyone seems so afraid to die. I don't know what the big deal is.
Logically speaking, I really hope there isn't an afterlife. That's seriously the whole point of dying. You're dead. You're done. There's an empty shell of who you were, and it's over. I don't like this whole supernatural aspect of it where there's these two extremes following the end of your life. Heaven, eternal bliss, or Hell, eternal pain. Seriously, who the fuck decided on those? If there were a way to actually set out ground rules in this world about what is good and what is evil, there wouldn't be so many damned problems.
I've had people die in my family. People that I cared about. I saw my step-father's mother go from preparing for a night out at bingo following a good doctor's report to being lifeless. She laid down on the floor, and it was over. She was gone. Her heart stopped beating. Her consciousness disapeared, and for some reason, everyone was traumatized. I've never cried over the death of a person. I cried because my siblings were crying. I've cried because I've felt so deeply sorry for the people that were so broken inside, but I have not cried over a death. Is there something wrong with that?
What's more, I'm not afraid to die. I'm really just indifferent about the topic. Sure, maybe that will change when I'm dead and roasting in some fiery, sulfurous pit, but I'm just not all that attached to living. I don't want to die, but if it happened, what difference would it make. People would be sad, and they would move on. Unless for some reason my consciousness is forever stuck lingering around everyone, I don't care. I enjoy science fiction, because the writers can use their imaginations. They can play with the fact that we have no idea about what is going to happen after we leave this world. Some of the ideas are really, really far out of my mental understanding, but I don't believe that one is more ludricous than another.
I don't know, I just don't get the big deal. Maybe I'm lacking something in my life that most people have. Maybe I've just never loved anything enough to be frightened by the thought of losing it forever. Maybe it's just a coping mechanism for the one thing that I can and will never control. I don't know, but I'm certainly annoyed with the fact that I can't stop thinking about it today. It's just weird how often I've thought about death today. Uncanny, I suppose.
Anyone care to weigh in?
Logically speaking, I really hope there isn't an afterlife. That's seriously the whole point of dying. You're dead. You're done. There's an empty shell of who you were, and it's over. I don't like this whole supernatural aspect of it where there's these two extremes following the end of your life. Heaven, eternal bliss, or Hell, eternal pain. Seriously, who the fuck decided on those? If there were a way to actually set out ground rules in this world about what is good and what is evil, there wouldn't be so many damned problems.
I've had people die in my family. People that I cared about. I saw my step-father's mother go from preparing for a night out at bingo following a good doctor's report to being lifeless. She laid down on the floor, and it was over. She was gone. Her heart stopped beating. Her consciousness disapeared, and for some reason, everyone was traumatized. I've never cried over the death of a person. I cried because my siblings were crying. I've cried because I've felt so deeply sorry for the people that were so broken inside, but I have not cried over a death. Is there something wrong with that?
What's more, I'm not afraid to die. I'm really just indifferent about the topic. Sure, maybe that will change when I'm dead and roasting in some fiery, sulfurous pit, but I'm just not all that attached to living. I don't want to die, but if it happened, what difference would it make. People would be sad, and they would move on. Unless for some reason my consciousness is forever stuck lingering around everyone, I don't care. I enjoy science fiction, because the writers can use their imaginations. They can play with the fact that we have no idea about what is going to happen after we leave this world. Some of the ideas are really, really far out of my mental understanding, but I don't believe that one is more ludricous than another.
I don't know, I just don't get the big deal. Maybe I'm lacking something in my life that most people have. Maybe I've just never loved anything enough to be frightened by the thought of losing it forever. Maybe it's just a coping mechanism for the one thing that I can and will never control. I don't know, but I'm certainly annoyed with the fact that I can't stop thinking about it today. It's just weird how often I've thought about death today. Uncanny, I suppose.
Anyone care to weigh in?