Did you ever wonder at what point you will realize you’re dead, or if there even is such a realization.
Some people see their imminent demise.
Some are looking in the opposite direction.
Some try everything to avoid the inevitable.
Some try to hasten it.
So what does one think about?
Or some combination thereof?
I believe it likely that most people in the “civilized” countries think,
“I just (fill in the blank)”
“But I just got (fill in the blank again)”.
And most people in those “third-world” areas think
I would like to die on my birthday. Not a specific birthday, preferably one in the distant future.
And not to make it a self-fulfilling prophecy.
It would also make the Date of Birth and Date of Death symmetrical, at least the first two designators.
I would like this for no reason other than it allows me to live 364 days a year without considering Death in my daily list concerns.
No fear of not waking up, being trampled, struck by lightning, head ballet on a windshield, infections, heart attacks, shark attacks, bears, alligators, spider bites, food poisoning, or the several billion other ways to die.
Why do I suggest there are billions of ways?
Every person who ever lived, did, and every person alive, will. It is a reasonable conclusion that, absent evidence to the contrary, regardless how long life expectancy increases, everyone yet to be born, will as well.
If everyone died at the moment I finished this sentence it would be 7,023,088,208 deaths (June 29, 2012 21:05 UTC). All would be unique in time and space (well in space at least).
While there may be general similarities, accidental or on purpose, personal or random, public or private, each will be different.
The difference, other than the mechanics of death, is some are celebrated, some are mourned, some are ignored, and a very few are remembered.
Unfortunately, we tend to remember the death of those who embodied evil, rather than those who died at the hands of the evil.
So, if all goes well. I can write another 26 days worth of blogs, pause for 24 hours on July 25, just in case, and resume for another year.
Or I could write on the 25th, assuming I wake up, and hopefully it won’t end like thi……………………………..
Requiesecat in Pace