I’m in the cemetery. I’m sitting on top of someone’s grave. Writing under the horrifying figure of the moon, flickering light —I’m so excited, I can’t wait until the light ends its life.The wind’s cold voice whispers something on my warm skin. Now, my knees tremble with excitement and fear. Is this how it feels to be here, being in the cemetery —sitting on top of someone’s grave?
Cold sweat drops from my live skin as I take a look at the names of those people who got their life expired. Even though I don’t know how their life was like —how they lived and how they died. I feel close to them, somehow. The thought freezes each heartbeat of mine. It’s as if I’m right beside them inside their coffin —that is if both of us will fit inside.
Buddha said that.
Everytime I turn my head, there is some weird feeling —and a thought that keeps on telling me something’s out there and I don’t know what it is. Whether I know it or not —it’s there. With or without my consent.
At first it is bit scary and weird. But all of a sudden I feel the peacefulness that these dead people’s graves bring. Their lifelong questions were maybe answered by death, or it has brought an end to their questioning. Do we feel peaceful when we die? I guess not, it’s just that we feel nothing. It’s numbness, and not peace. Do we go to heaven? Or hell? Or nothing?
The darkness keeps on dragging the lights down. Panic fills my throat as sudden sounds pop out of nowhere. The wind seems to be whispering some words to my ears. Though the moon looks horrifying, it still looks beautiful from here. The moon is a witness to whatever happens to me during this night. So much for the poetic crap —let’s get down to business.
Right here, sitting on top of the grave, writing my feelings —my awareness in a notebook. I wish I had a cigar. I’m so bored. Then, all of a sudden, just all of a sudden. A thought erects from my fantasies. I could be easily one of these dead individuals around me. Years from now, I will die. Or even moments from now, I can die. The only thing imminent in life is … Death. Does that thought scare you? … I screamed … A damn cockroach has just landed on my head. The insect may be also feeling scared. Well, that’s enough to pump me up.
Though it’s inevitable, I’m so afraid of dying. I hope there’s a better way of than a bitter death. I guess, it just can’t be helped. Death is the twin brother of life. They are both bitter, life is less bitter —at least.
Death could either answer all our questions or put an end to that lifelong habit. A bitter way. Another horrible truth —get used to it. After death, would we become what we were before our birth?
Some say that death is a debt we must pay. Some also say that death is a reward for living a miserable life and struggled enough to find that it’s so worth it. We all live, we all have our struggles, we all die. Every beginning has an end. Sad to say, needless to say, we all have the same fate “to live and to die“. It’s a cycle. The balance of nature. How overpopulated would the world be if all those who died were brought back to life. Many people deserved to die but most of them are living. Many people deserved to live but most of them are dead. Irony at its finest.
If you wanna see God, then die. People get closer to God the moment they feel that it’s getting harder to breathe. It’s not that I don’t want to see God. I want to see God in me first. Well, I serve earth, not heaven.
And most of all, I am not that old to die. My time will come. And when that time comes, just like a song, embrace it with open arms. Death awaits, but death won’t wait. I hope death will wait long enough. But reality is. … As they have said, the moment one is born —one is already old enough to die. The truth is … no one wants that reality.
Death is not patient. Death is not kind. I’m not just going to die without living —without a fight. Life’s not over till it’s over. Life’s not fair. Deal with it.
And by the way, life is a journey wherein no one ever reaches the finish line alive.