areyoulistening

When I was kid, I would buy books about dead people. The kind of books that spoke about how they used to have such a big problem burying people alive, that they designed a coffin that had a string attached to a bell that ran all the way above ground. This way the person that had been buried a little too soon could wake up, pull the string and someone could come dig them out. From that point on, I was worried about the idea of being buried alive. Looking back on it, my father most likely should have looked closer at the books I was asking him to buy me. I can recall him looking at the front and back cover, looking down at me and shaking his head. I mean I know now with the internet and all that, people aren’t going to be buried alive anymore, right? 

There were also books on different funeral traditions in America practiced by different cultures. I was always weired out by the viewing of the body thing. When I was like 9 or 10, my Uncle had a heart attack while hunting upstate. They found him sitting against a tree hours after it had happened. At the wake, his grandson was like 3 or 4 and he started saying, “Wake up, Pop. Wake up.” It was a nightmare and ever since then I never got why we do that shit. What good comes out of it? I guess they say there is a certain amount of closure that can be had from seeing a loved one’s dead body but I don’t how much of that I buy into. I guess maybe the kid was too young to see his dead grandfather’s body.

 People always say shit like, “Oh, he looks good,” or “Look at her, she looks so peaceful.” Are you kidding me? This person has just recently passed away. They have never looked worse. And peaceful? That son of a bitch may have seen hell! Every dead person I have seen looks…well, they look fucking dead. All waxy, cheeks sunken in and purple lips.  

There are sports teams that now make coffins and urns for “superfans.” I really hope that the people that are buried in these things either don’t get into heaven or have to explain why they would be buried in such a thing. KISS also makes coffins. The Goddamn rock group.  

I still have no idea what I think happens when you die. Part of me thinks the lights go out and you rot in a box, while part of me wants to think you go to a magical place with friends and family where it’s outdoor seating at restaurants all the time and it never rains. There is the chance that before you are allowed into Heaven, they gather all your friends and family into a large theater and play on a large screen all the terrible things you’ve done. All the times you’ve lied, stole, cheated and God only knows what some of you people do behind closed doors. Well, all of it would be up on the big screen while Mommy, Daddy, old friends and distant cousins you thought about making out with watch you do terrible things to your body and who knows what else. If you do think there is a Heaven, start thinking now about what you’d say to St. Peter; because from I hear–he can be a real hardass.

 I gotta get going…this place is dead anyway.

Trackback URI | Comments RSS