When we die…


I just felt the urge to make a blog post, so here I am.

I’m not going to complain in here. It’s not worth it. In fact, I want to talk about death. But you know, not in a bad way. It’s a natural course of events. Everything that lives – dies. But humans and animals get attached to the individuals around them. What happens, when someone dies before you? For someone else’s pain all you can do is say you’re sorry. I’m far from the thought that you can feel the grief of everyone. Yes, it sucks, when someone dies, but it’s not the end of the world.

But when someone that’s close to you dies? What then? How do people deal with such things. I’ve always wondered how much it hurts to lose someone. I’ve never had to experience a death so serious. Except for my grandfathers, but I wasn’t REALLY close to them and it was expected, too, so yeah. But if for example my parents died or some of my friends, I’m sure I’d be devastated. Hope it doesn’t happen. But on the other hand, Life works in such ways that you always lose someone in time…unless you die first. Like if you marry someone and you stay with them until time does you apart, you’re either gonna die first or you’re gonna have to deal with your husband/wife dying.

But aren’t people selfish? Why are we being sad? Is it because this person is no longer living? He’s no longer in pain, he no longer thinks, feels, bothers, he ceases to exist. What’s so sad about that? You’re sad, because you can’t stand the thought of living without them in your world. You’re crying because of yourself. No one is going to be there to make you laugh, to give you money, or even make you angry. Everything is about you. And I somehow understand that, because we all look at things in our own point of view, but I still think this grieving is irrational. Still, though, I would be really, really sad if something bad happened happened to any of the people I’m closed to. And I’m sure that they would feel equally as bad if something happened to me. We’re just social.

But what I’m wondering is – do we really stop existing? They bury us, we rot, I get that. But when someone visits our grave and talks to us, is he really talking to himself? If we can accept the fact that people have souls and they are created with conceiving, what happens to them?/ You can’t touch them, you can’t see them, why would they stop existing with our body? Or do they stay behind like bones do? I’m really fascinated with the subject. Though I don’t believe in God, I think that it’s not completely impossible that there is some other form of life. I mean, no one has come back to tell us, so we can only guess what happens. We might stop existing, which might look sad, but at the same time it’s inevitable and we won’t feel it at all. It would be as if we were never born. But then, what if the soul stays and comes to its close ones upon summoning. By summoning, I don’t mean magic or something like that, I mean like talking to the dead person or mentioning them or just thinking of them. The power of the mind if really strong, placebo effect proves that, so I think that ghosts are not completely out of the question, though I don’t think of it as they put it in the movies. No one is taking care of us or watching our every move.

They’re just there….somewhere…and when you think of them, they come. I don’t know, I might be talking bullshit, but I somehow refuse to believe that there’s nothing after we die, especially since literally no one knows. We all find out, when we die, obviously, but it’s too late. 😀

Anyway, I would like people coming to my grave and talking to me about random things. I would love for them to bring me pizza, chips, junk food, and chocolate cakes even though I can’t eat them. I’d love for them to leave me a crossword puzzle and a pen, so I could pretend to solve something. Even if I’m not there to see or appreciate it. I’m a person of gestures. If I would have to go to a close one’s grave, I’d bring their favorite flowers, magazine, food, drink. I’d clean up the place and I’d stay there for hours talking to the grave, even if the dead person doesn’t give a shit, cause he doesn’t exist anymore. I’m talking to the memory. To the person I used to know, to everything he meant to me and the reason why I’m there standing and doing all these things for a patch of dirt and a grave stone. It’s respect. I would do what I would like to be done with me, when I die.

Have a great one, folks!



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