I’m going to start by saying it’s not going to be from slipping on the floor or something embarrassing like that. No. This will be a bathroom death for the ages. The kind that will be remembered in song long after this era is gone.
I’ll just be sitting there doing my thing while the ceiling begins to ooze high-fructose corn syrup. You think I’d be ready for what would happen next since I had an incident at work just last year that literally started the same way. But no, I still won’t see this coming. Even though I’m telling you about this now I still won’t see it coming. I guess my foresight isn’t 20/20 like hindsight. As the ooze takes an androgynous human form, it’ll invite me for another ride into the sky. I will refuse for I’m not entirely sure that it’s not trying to kill me.
Will I die in an epic battle? No, not quite. Life is rarely that exciting, and death even more rarely so.
Even as I sat on the bus en route to his place the phone call still repeated itself constantly in my mind. It was a short call that consisted entirely of him calling me and stating that he had a real life Farfetch’d that I should come over to his house to see before he hung up. Had he finally gone mad? I think that was the thing I was most curious about.
I guess his story was a bit . . . Farfetch’d. Because nobody has ever made that joke before.
Exiting the bus and making my way up the sidewalk he burst out of his front door with the excitement of a small child who had just gotten a video game system for Christmas despite the fact that his parents really couldn’t afford it. As he told me that he had been awaiting this day for his entire life my friend led me upstairs to his bedroom.
What awaited me was . . . Unexpected. A dead Mallard duck was propped up against a bookend with a leek shoved in its beak. After taking what must have been at least a solid minute or so I looked at this man whom I considered a friend and consciously blinked several times in an attempt to request an explanation without having to go through the awkwardness of actually asking.
“Isn’t it awesome!? I just found her lying on the side of the river by the elementary school just past the strip mall. Her name is Jet Leek. She’s too proud to live in a Poké Ball as you can see.”
Looking back at the duck it was then that I finally became aware of the smell. Thinking carefully about how to point out the obvious in a tactful manner I gave up and blatantly stated “I think it’s rotting dude.”.
“Nah, I haven’t had a chance to get her in the bath yet.”
At this point I had completely nothing. Nothing. Out of politeness and value for our friendship I congratulated him on his find and made up an excuse about running late for something. On the bus heading home I kept trying to process what had just happened. After a while I started to wonder why I was surprised.
After all, that’s like the fourth time he’s done that this year.
Someone bought this for me recently. This is my weapon for the zombie apocalypse.
Although it’s a waste of time due to the lack of sensory functions after death, it’s hard not to image what death would be like.
I often try to think of flying forward in an infinite space for an infinite amount of time. But in doing so I try to imagine moving infinitely faster to cover more ground to try to get to the end of the infinite space. In doing so for some reason my view of myself always ‘zooms out’ further and further away as if that somehow helps me any. My reasoning for this train of thought is that it’s influenced by the statement ‘moving forward in time’ and this is an attempt to see how the rest of time will play out in my non-existent mind.
Will there be a point where my brain will be alive while the rest of my body is functionally dead, even if only for a second? What will that feel like? Would I make a futile attempt to move my limbs? In doing so would they feel impossibly heavy or would there be a different mental response?
Waking up in a casket is a huge fear of mine. Reasonably so I feel. One time I woke up with my limbs all restrained due to a medical procedure I just had and I panicked so hard I threw up all over the place.
So yeah. Regarding the spiritual-religious people out there you have your beliefs about death. But for the non-believers . . . Do you still spend time thinking about how death will feel without actually believing what you think?