The final frontier

You know, we all think we know what death is. We all tell other afflicted people not to feel sad, to imagine that the one they lost is in a better place etc etc. Philosophers imagine that the all-important soul, or the intangible manifestation of the sense of being, rises above the physical plane and arrives at another and blah blah. End of the day, none of this ranting matters.


Because when you hear the phone ring, pick it up and hear that hollow voice telling you that so-and-so is not in THIS physical plane anymore, all that motivational crap flies out the window.


The first reaction anyone would have is, "Your kidding right?" The slightly prolonged silence on the other end brings another thought to mind. "This is a sick joke. I know it." And as the electric potential builds up in the mind you think desperately, "People only die in movies, or in other parts of the world, or in other towns, in other houses. Not here. Not in my time." And it starts to sink in. Because if truth were alterable, the endlessly intertwining alternate possibilities in the universe (as a result of changing whims and fancies of individuals) would lead to cataclysmic meltdown. So to balance the equation, some things are unalterable.


Like the fact that you cant see him ever again.

My fifth attempt at creating a blog. Will this be a success? Or another shot at failure? Only the staggering mess left behind as the universe heads on inevitably towards exponential entropy will determine whether or not this particularly long-winded sentence will be passed on to succeeding generations of blind humans. Or, more simply, time will tell.