The Truth About Death.

Funny died last friday. Funny, for the record, was my dog, and a loving friend for a major part of my life. And no, this is not going to be an eulogy about how great he was, eventhough he was, but you don't want to read about that. This is about the the day he died, gasping for air while I sat with him on my lap waiting for the vet to see him. I think I knew he wouldn't make it before it even struck, maybe we all did....but to see him give up after fighting for his last breath, the whole scene..it was the first time i've seen anybody die..and it sure did change a lot of perceptions I had about death....

Before this, I took it as a matter of fact..you live and then you die. And maybe I was a bit too cocky about it being young, knowing it isn't going to happen to me anytime soon as long as I don't live on the edge. Earlier, the only places I had seen death was where? In movies, read about it in books, heard about it in songs?? The picture about death there is so wrong, because those guys put out emotions on the front..or they take them away completely. Death is either total,raw carnage or they have this really poigant take on it....which in turn brought me to associate a kind of romanticism to the whole concept of death. But, then it hit me like a brick wall..it's all so wrong. Death's nothing like that. It's ugly...ugly and ruthlessly painful. There's life and then in a moment it all just blanks out, like somebody just yanked out your power chord. And by the way, as I see it, the last moment you have, I wouldn't think about people I love, or about the things I could've done with my life...it's all going to boil down to just one last thought,"I wish i could live some more. I don't want to die..."