Death is a warm candle glistening in our hearts, because it calls to everyone. It inspires worship by teaching people to savor life. It’s a deep thought in the late hours that people swirl in their mouths like a Bordeaux wine.
I love the idea of roaming the ether, or oozing through an ancient catacomb. For some reason, planning a burial comforts my fear of being lost to time. A grave is said to turn someone to stone, and preserve the soul by keeping it alive.
Who doesn’t enjoy the comfort in that? I wish I could believe in God. Life would be so exciting if that stuff were true! I resent the cracked-out nutcase spewing bullshit in the street. His charisma is fantastic and the “god-damned-truth.” Passion so intense, his face is filled with blood and his spit all over the people in front of him. I envy it! It’s dull without doe-eyed talks about dreamy things, and believing in it whole-heartedly.