Disclaimer: Before we go on please note, I am not talking about grief. That’s a whole different beast, one that effects those of us left behind by the dead. If you can’t separate the topic of grief from the topic of death, or if you are grieving now it might be best to stop reading.
I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately. A pandemic will do that.
Mostly, my thoughts on death vacillate between wishing it on some very specific people that I think we’ll all agree would improve the world with their absence, and wondering why the hell we treat death like it’s something mystic and not just a logical conclusion to this thing called life.
This has been observed far more articulately by minds far greater than mine: death doesn’t really effect the dead guy.
When one dies I suspect it will be a lot like it was for them before they were born. Do you remember before you were born? Were you sad? Were you happy? Did you get your giblets touched just the way you like? Fuck no. It was a whole lot of nothing. A void.
And don’t @ me with your reincarnation bullshit, Tiffini.
But in my last life I was Joan of Arcadia!
No you weren’t, you dumbass parfait.
Death happens to all of us. If you are reading this, the one thing I have in common with you is that we will, one day, die. My guess is, your death will make a lot more people sad than mine will. Mostly because you’re awesome and I’m an asshole who makes jokes about Corona taking out a bunch of boomers. *fingers crossed*
It’s wrong to make jokes about people dying, Rudy.
No. No it is not. People are scared and frustrated and angry. If they, or I want to make dark jokes about it fuck off. Seriously, jokes about death cause death the way prayers stop it. In times of darkness jokes and prayers serve the same purpose: they make the person uttering them feel better. Nobody wants your grandmother to die, you fucking spoon.
But whining about people who joke about death illustrates to the rest of us that you really don’t know how to separate the stuff that truly matters from the shit that doesn’t. The fucking universe is rolling its eyes at your indignation.
I think a healthy view of death – at least, one’s own – can actually lead to a healthier life. I have no science to back up this theory. I just know that fearing death doesn’t stop its inevitability.
So if you know your death is inevitable and just a natural part of the process of life, maybe stop treating it like its some esoteric bullshit and treat it like anything else. It happens. It will happen to you. By all means, wear your seatbelt and get your flu shot, but also live the fuck out of this life and lighten the fuck up.
Unless you’re a boomer. In that case, go lick a bat.
