I’m sitting alone in a musty, dirty room, a barren wasteland save a simple wooden chair in the center that I now occupy. The walls in this room are a dingy gray that at one time was probably a bright white. The floor is wood with a layer of dust so thick that my footprints can be seen from the door of the room to my chair. The door itself is of the heavy wooden persuasion, the likes of which they just don’t make anymore. There is one window, or rather, a covered hole boarded up with press-board that looks to be deteriorating as time trudges on. “Why am I here?” might be the question on your mind, and maybe it’s not. Either way, I intend to explain myself.
I haven’t introduced myself, and I won’t. My name is neither relevant nor important. Think of me as the wonderer. I am someone who asked too many questions and is now driven to have some answers. Why should the answer-less questions that mercilessly tax my brain mean anything to you? I don’t know. Perhaps they shouldn’t, but you’re still here so I’ll keep talking.
For quite some time now, one question has troubled me. What happens when we die? Do you know? Don’t bother, even if you were confident enough in your beliefs to offer an answer, I wouldn’t believe it. That is, of course, unless you had evidence. Not doo-dah, horse pucky ramblings about faith and heaven and hell, but real, tangible, physical evidence. I am very confident that no one living possesses that evidence. Therein lies my dilemma. The only way to answer my question is to find out for myself.
Hanging above my head I have fashioned a noose. I was a boy scout so it’s a damned fine noose if I may say so myself. It will definitely do the trick. I must say something now. I am not crazy by any stretched of the imagination. Nor am I mentally disturbed in any way. I am quite sane and logical. I have accomplished everything on this earth that I wish to accomplish here, except for answering this one question. Believe me, I have tried. I have researched it endlessly. I have spent the better part of the last five years investigating this mystery. As of yet, I have found no real proof to support any theory currently being employed on the subject.
I’ve read accounts of people who have had near death experiences and been brought back to life to spin fantastic tales of bright lights and robed figures beckoning them home. I don’t think that’s evidence. My reply to those wonderful, warm stories is, when your heart stops, your brain continues to function. Perhaps your subconscious shows you just exactly what you’re expecting to see. A body will go into shock to protect itself when traumatized. Maybe this is a form of that protection.
I’ve spoken to church officials who assured me that if I give myself to god and give the church ten percent of my income, I can feel confident that upon departure from this life I shall have a peaceful afterlife with god in heaven. It sounds great, but faith ain’t proof. Lot’s of different people have faith in lots of different gods and, strangely enough, they all think that they are right. They can’t all be right. Nope, no proof here.
I’ve had logical people try to convince me that when you’re dead, you’re dead and that’s that. I suppose that’s just as plausible a theory as any other. What makes us as human beings so much better than the other creatures that we share this planet with? Why are we so special? Well, there is only one real way to find out.
I’m now going to stand up on my chair and slip my head through the noose. At this point, I’d like to ask that if you have a weak stomach or are in any way not interested in sharing this experience with me, would you please leave now. For everyone else, I am now kicking the chair out from under me…
My neck did not snap. I’m choking…I can feel my eyes bugging out of my head…my head is pounding…I can’t stop kicking my legs…I’m getting dizzy…I think I’m going into shock…my chest burns…hurts…it hurts…everything’s getting black…it hurts…hurts…
The End
I haven’t introduced myself, and I won’t. My name is neither relevant nor important. Think of me as the wonderer. I am someone who asked too many questions and is now driven to have some answers. Why should the answer-less questions that mercilessly tax my brain mean anything to you? I don’t know. Perhaps they shouldn’t, but you’re still here so I’ll keep talking.
For quite some time now, one question has troubled me. What happens when we die? Do you know? Don’t bother, even if you were confident enough in your beliefs to offer an answer, I wouldn’t believe it. That is, of course, unless you had evidence. Not doo-dah, horse pucky ramblings about faith and heaven and hell, but real, tangible, physical evidence. I am very confident that no one living possesses that evidence. Therein lies my dilemma. The only way to answer my question is to find out for myself.
Hanging above my head I have fashioned a noose. I was a boy scout so it’s a damned fine noose if I may say so myself. It will definitely do the trick. I must say something now. I am not crazy by any stretched of the imagination. Nor am I mentally disturbed in any way. I am quite sane and logical. I have accomplished everything on this earth that I wish to accomplish here, except for answering this one question. Believe me, I have tried. I have researched it endlessly. I have spent the better part of the last five years investigating this mystery. As of yet, I have found no real proof to support any theory currently being employed on the subject.
I’ve read accounts of people who have had near death experiences and been brought back to life to spin fantastic tales of bright lights and robed figures beckoning them home. I don’t think that’s evidence. My reply to those wonderful, warm stories is, when your heart stops, your brain continues to function. Perhaps your subconscious shows you just exactly what you’re expecting to see. A body will go into shock to protect itself when traumatized. Maybe this is a form of that protection.
I’ve spoken to church officials who assured me that if I give myself to god and give the church ten percent of my income, I can feel confident that upon departure from this life I shall have a peaceful afterlife with god in heaven. It sounds great, but faith ain’t proof. Lot’s of different people have faith in lots of different gods and, strangely enough, they all think that they are right. They can’t all be right. Nope, no proof here.
I’ve had logical people try to convince me that when you’re dead, you’re dead and that’s that. I suppose that’s just as plausible a theory as any other. What makes us as human beings so much better than the other creatures that we share this planet with? Why are we so special? Well, there is only one real way to find out.
I’m now going to stand up on my chair and slip my head through the noose. At this point, I’d like to ask that if you have a weak stomach or are in any way not interested in sharing this experience with me, would you please leave now. For everyone else, I am now kicking the chair out from under me…
My neck did not snap. I’m choking…I can feel my eyes bugging out of my head…my head is pounding…I can’t stop kicking my legs…I’m getting dizzy…I think I’m going into shock…my chest burns…hurts…it hurts…everything’s getting black…it hurts…hurts…
The End
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