the weird girl writing poems in the corner (kittikitty) wrote,
the weird girl writing poems in the corner

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This summer is going to fuckin rock your ass off.


How many wakes do I have to attend until my turn comes?
How many caskets do I have to kneel in front of?
How many wax-figure corpses will I have to look upon as the last memory I have of someone I love?
How many family members will I have to see lowered into the ground?
How many friends will I have to scatter the ashes of in some body of water?
How many times will I have to hear the tearful phrase "(s)he's in a better place now" and keep repeating it to myself, trying to find some comfort in it and failing?

I am so Zen about most things -- why can't I be Zen about death? I should be happy. I should celebrate, and think of funerals as going-away parties. I mean, this world fucking sucks and my loved one has escaped the suckfest. I should consider them lucky. I should be jealous, in fact. I shouldn't be crying!

Knowing my family member is watching over me, that my friend is no longer in pain, that spirits live on in another dimension (and I really do believe this)... it doesn't make me feel any better! This esoteric knowledge makes no dent in the overwhelming torture of primal, human grief.

I'm here, and the dead person is no longer here. No matter what is going on for that person after death, I feel their absence as a living creature on earth. Without them. For the rest of my life.

And it's only just begun, the stream of successive losses I have to look forward to. Woohoo! The older I get, the more loved ones I will have to see for the last time in their coffins. It's getting to the point where I hope I go next, not because I'm suicidal or anything, but because I don't want to go through this again -- and I know it only gets worse, the longer you live (and the more people you outlive.)

If only I could shut down the part of my brain that forms significant attachments. That way, I could enjoy people without caring enough to be negatively affected by the loss of any given presence in my life, due to death or abandonment or simple "growing apart."

If only I could really detach the living being from the corpse in the coffin, and be unselfishly happy for my dead loved one -- because they are in A Better Place. There would be no reason to cry.... if only...

If only I wasn't human.
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