Today I felt like writing a story not a column. In all honesty this has been written since January. On with the story…
My story starts where another had ended. This is of course typical. Every ending is just another beginning. I suppose by now you are bored with the philosophical crap and want get at the story. All I can say is sorry. It is a very rare thing to have someone to talk to. I will start my story now.
My mind was wondering as it always did. It never did stop, not even when I slept. It did stop soon enough though. Maybe if it had earlier I would not be where I am now. Yet then you would not give a shit about my story. The thing I recall most is heat escaping. The heat was just pouring out. Then the cold came. It never left. I miss the heat. I stood there for a moment and looked at my self. At first I had hoped it was some strange mirror. I knew better but I still screamed for help. I think maybe the trees had heard me but they of course could do nothing for me.
Next I remember running. It was weird, I should have heard my feet against the grass and twigs. I should have heard the birds. I heard nothing but my own worries. I suppose it was only fair, I had heard nothing before I got cold.
When you attend your own funeral it is kinda weird. The only thing I can say for sure is if the way I looked in that coffin was how I always looked… well lets hope they didn’t pay him much. It was strange, the people who I was for sure would come never came. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Life is cruel like that. You never really know who your friends are. Now I will always feel bad as I can never thank the people who came. I was horrible to some of these people and ignored the rest. They were not my friends in my eyes. I guess they forgave me, or maybe they felt sorry. All I know is I knew I felt horrible about it yet I didn’t really feel anything. It is hard to describe being detached like this. It was like my humanity was left behind, a shadow of its former self all that was left…
It was a wonderful ceremony. The preacher was good at looking as if he knew me and had insight into my life. I think he deserved what they payed him. The cemetery had always scared me. Now I wondered as we closed in on it, should I be scared of it now too? They had decided to bury me by an uncle. He had died some years before. He was on my fathers side, he was always nice but did I really want to have my eternal slumber by this guy? His snoring could wake the dead I always said. This might get interesting.
After some time I began to wonder why was I still here. Shouldn’t I be led to some light? Drug to some fire? Maybe even woke up a fly or something? Anything! It was in this boredom I decided to try moving things, might as well make the best of it. And that got me nowhere. I couldn’t quite figure it out. I could not fly but I could pass through walls and stand on things. Last time I checked physics like that do not work out. That is when I realized I was getting too wrapped up in physics when I need to worry about getting out of this problem. I was dead and stuck here. I was going stir crazy. I had cabin fever, with no cabin. What did I do to really piss someone off. This has to be a punishment.
I could not take it anymore. I was yelling and screaming. I was tired of all this crap. I didn’t want to see people crying for me. I didn’t want to see my damn grave or my funeral!
Then I heard these voices. Then the light. I was excited. Finally, my time had come. It was over. The strange thing was all I could hear was yelling and machines running and humming and things beeping. Why was heaven so damn cold and stiff, what happened to the fluffy clouds and stuff? And what kind of saints and angels was I looking at?
My story starts where another had ended. This is of course typical…