Death…
Ever since I was little I’ve been obsessed with death. It’s not necessarily an unhealthy obsession, just something that I try to keep in the front of my mind – and when I succeed, it totally consumes me. Most people, I believe, like to trick themselves into thinking they're immortal. In reality, death is the only certainty we have in life. So why not embrace it? And if you could, what would you change?
Would you still be the self-centered, egotistical, too-good-for-everyone-else bitch that you are? Would you quit drinking? Would you start praying and try your hardest to be religiously devoted? Would you apologize to everyone you know you’ve wronged, but couldn’t admit to yourself because your ego was just that big? Would it knock you down a notch? Would you realize that you’re no better than anyone else, simply because you too, will die with the rest of us?
I forget sometimes, that I’ll die. Just like everyone else. But there’s always something small, like a switched off phone, to remind me. If he’s dead, what will that mean to me?
He’s married. His wife knows nothing about me. We don’t have a physical relationship or anything like that. Nonetheless, I’m his secret. How would ever know if he were dead? And if and when I found out, would it affect anything immediately? I have something that belongs to him; or rather to his company. Eventually, they’ll need that back. Would I hold on to it, as a final reminder? Would I contact someone else I know who works with him just to return it? And if so, would they even care if he were actually gone? And am I psychotic to even think about something so small, when death is in the picture making it a much bigger picture? Or is that just human nature?
It’s the little things that come with death that make it so interesting for me. There's security in knowing that I know for sure I'll die, when I know nothing else.
Labels: things to ponder