everything is dying.
I often envision changes, a complete turnover of the permutations of fate orbiting my world. Changes did come at first, and I was giving thanks on bended knees, thanking the punctilious Omnipotent One who created the heavens and earth for tweaking my despicable fate. But everyone knows the human soul is a tough shell to crack, as resilient it is, it always reverts back to the highway it traveled. So, life reverted. What I see now is the same old thing like those old grannies used to see and always speak with a hush tone - Death.
Death, I smell it everywhere. I smell it in my dog, my car, my family, my plants, my gadgets; everything in this world has it. Everything is decaying. Everything is on the brink of attrition. It is utterly regrettable that the sinful nature of mankind has only led us to our own peril, of such distasteful epilogue, but smelling death in things that are still alive? It is ironic but if there is an ad in the classifieds in search for a necromancer, I believe I’ll make quick bucks out of it.
Vaguely, my faith had taught me quite richly about death. So fulfilling that death was no longer gruesome or tearful, but it had to be rejoiced and celebrated for the soul has returned to paradise. Since then, I came to accept death as something inevitable, unforeseen, and unreasonable. It cannot be questioned, it cannot be replaced and it has been clocked since the days of the making.
As impeccable the ideology could have developed, nothing beats the experience. If only we could commune with the deceased via spiritual channels, questioning them on their pre-departure moments, pretty much of the equation could be simplified. But no, the dead are dead. Not because it is a taboo to speak to the dead.
Yet the subject is not about those gone and is subjected to past tense when brought up in funerals. It is about those present yet are gone. Like I see death in my dog’s eyes. I can see that weariness in him. I can see that ageing process taking place in everything around me. It came like an epidemic evolving and flexes its claws on everything around. The mind is dying, spirits are breaking, and everything I see is depressed. Even leaves withered as if it is meaningless to repeat the photosynthesis cycle everyday. So is the air, the water, they tasted bitter and somber whenever I inhale and gulp. Everything is giving up.
If these are the trade-offs from my earlier bargain, I pray for a regression. Disappointed I am over the outcome, but the most heart wrenching was that I always thought things would turn out utopia. Apparently, it did not turn out like the idealistic blueprint I had in my mind. It was a disaster. A mistake that costs lives. What stands before my very pair of eyes is just a lifeless being or do you prefer the euphemism of zombie? If only I could reverse the track back to the way it should be, will I be kneeling on my knees again for another favor of change?
I have learnt my lesson. Now please give me back my life.
Death, I smell it everywhere. I smell it in my dog, my car, my family, my plants, my gadgets; everything in this world has it. Everything is decaying. Everything is on the brink of attrition. It is utterly regrettable that the sinful nature of mankind has only led us to our own peril, of such distasteful epilogue, but smelling death in things that are still alive? It is ironic but if there is an ad in the classifieds in search for a necromancer, I believe I’ll make quick bucks out of it.
Vaguely, my faith had taught me quite richly about death. So fulfilling that death was no longer gruesome or tearful, but it had to be rejoiced and celebrated for the soul has returned to paradise. Since then, I came to accept death as something inevitable, unforeseen, and unreasonable. It cannot be questioned, it cannot be replaced and it has been clocked since the days of the making.
As impeccable the ideology could have developed, nothing beats the experience. If only we could commune with the deceased via spiritual channels, questioning them on their pre-departure moments, pretty much of the equation could be simplified. But no, the dead are dead. Not because it is a taboo to speak to the dead.
Yet the subject is not about those gone and is subjected to past tense when brought up in funerals. It is about those present yet are gone. Like I see death in my dog’s eyes. I can see that weariness in him. I can see that ageing process taking place in everything around me. It came like an epidemic evolving and flexes its claws on everything around. The mind is dying, spirits are breaking, and everything I see is depressed. Even leaves withered as if it is meaningless to repeat the photosynthesis cycle everyday. So is the air, the water, they tasted bitter and somber whenever I inhale and gulp. Everything is giving up.
If these are the trade-offs from my earlier bargain, I pray for a regression. Disappointed I am over the outcome, but the most heart wrenching was that I always thought things would turn out utopia. Apparently, it did not turn out like the idealistic blueprint I had in my mind. It was a disaster. A mistake that costs lives. What stands before my very pair of eyes is just a lifeless being or do you prefer the euphemism of zombie? If only I could reverse the track back to the way it should be, will I be kneeling on my knees again for another favor of change?
I have learnt my lesson. Now please give me back my life.
posted by greyhound at 2:53 PM
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