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Something Special

August 24, 2016

Death is a subject that seems to grant uncertainty, which I find insane. How can you say that we don’t know what happens after we die? I know what will happen exactly, it’s happened to my ancestors and their ancestors. It dates back to the beginning of human existence, and then exists beyond past that. Life is juxtaposed by death, but I think life only exists if death is almost just as relevant and just as similar. It’s not bizarre that we die, what’s bizarre is that we lie to ourselves in order to make our selves feel better about our demise, which isn’t even a thing. In order to take a glance at the subject of death we must step back from our morbid religions and look at the physical aspect of what our bodies go through. Rigmarole, if you will. Each cell dies and we evaporate into the earth to create and sustain life. We aren’t useless in death, in fact we’re probably more productive dead than we ever were alive.

Each atom detaches, turns around, and becomes something else. Fertilizer mostly, but also food for animals and insects. We enter into life and are nutrients in said creatures that feast upon our bodies. Yet, we embalm our bloated corpses and seal them inside cement boxes that enclose a casket that’s only purpose is to feign importance for whatever wretched soul has cease to exist. How does this help nature? Our ceremonious religions have castrated our only use in the world, which is to be a part of Earth. Yet, we selfishly want to make our deaths important, which is just Bourgeois. God made us to worship him, God made us in his image, and God made us to… Um… Worship… Him. Then worship him. Why does that account for our indulgent death ceremonies that only cast gloom onto the other lives around us. I want to celebrated. I want to be admired. I don’t want empathy or pity. That’s just not practical. Then again, we’ve cloned our religions from each other out of the fear of what’s beyond to evade practicality.

Electricity is dangerous and can kill you, but with a set ground the electricity is pretty much nullified by being spread out so thin that it’s almost none-existent. That’s what I believe happens to us when we die. Our entity, if it feels anything or not, will be in the ether. We will be a part of Earth and a part of its inhabitants. You cannot kill energy, it’s just displaced. After our sun supernovas we will all be displaced and dead, but alive in the ethereal void of space that will spread us abound to what little will exist and how much will disperse. Fire up and dwarf into some sort of neutron star that will burn with our essence. The energy emerging from such a thing will be the energy we use to breathe. It won’t be a fire-y death, but an indulgence in exuding energy. We’ll reach deep space with flares and whatnot and probably effect about nothing out there, but we are still out there. Existing in our atoms, combined over the culmination of lifeforms and life’s degradation. You have to remember, this is what you were before you were born.

Don’t fear death, it’s nothing special.

Embrace death, it’s nothing special.

Let me rot in the ground. I’m nothing special.

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One Comment
  1. You should write erotica next…

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