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Archive for March 6th, 2009

Kill Me I’m Already Dead

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A friend told me that they were afraid of being raped in prison and that’s why they never broke the law. It actually came up in conversation, so it’s not as random as it may seem and it did get the wheels a churning, you know how it is. One little word can spark a whole days worth of philosophical thoughts. Mortality was what I came up with.


I’m not sure how being raped in prison led me to thinking about mortality. Could be because I’d rather die than go to prison or get raped, so being raped in prison is definitely out of the question. Oh yeah, I remember it was that he said he feared it and it made me think of what I fear.


I’m probably afraid of lot of things I’m not aware of. A good example is if I was to be in an airplane and was being told that I had to parachute out, I’d probably be faced with some fear. It might be the simple phobia of heights kicking in and since I spend the vast majority of my time on the ground I don’t really encounter a fear of heights. Another might be a pit full of spiders. Again, I don’t see too many spiders or spend time in too many pits, but if I was suddenly propelled into a situation that harvested these environmental, random, factors, I’d probably squeeze out a little bit of fear. Although as I look at both of these examples I do see that death is an underlying possibility in both scenarios.


Death is kind of a weird thing to fear, but because unlike the airplane and the spider pit, death can’t be avoided. It’s like the first big bummer you face on this planet. “Hey kid, you’re going to die someday.” Well, maybe the whole Santa debacle is the first tragic reality, then mortality.


All the old people I talk to about death never seemed phased by the idea at all. In most cases they act or talk as though they’re ready for it. “I’ve had a long and happy life” has been quoted to me on more than a few occasions. A few of them actually appeared to be waiting for it for as if it was a bus and they were somewhat annoyed that it was running behind schedule. Maybe if I live to be old I’ll lose my fear about death like I seem to losing so much other stuff, (hair, style, hipness, etc.)


One thing for sure is that I don’t care about the party afterwards. I don’t want a coffin or a mausoleum or any kind of non-sense like that. Burn my body and forgive me my sins, nothing worse than taking up space once you’re gone. I don’t care about my legacy or leaving a mark on the world either. I know that my presence was like a finger in a bucket of water, once you pull it out there is no void, it just fills in behind. I’m cool with all of that, but I just don’t want to die.


I think I’m that hysterical no-name guy in the disaster movie with his only line of, “I don’t want to die, I don’t wanna die!” right before he dies. But alas, I am going to die and I just can’t seem to accept it. I use to say that, “I do not believe in my own death for it can not be challenged or proved until either one is insignificant.”


Back then I use to drink heavily, so no, I don’t know what that means entirely.


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

Written by Ramblin' Rooster

March 6, 2009 at 4:19 am