If you are blog hopping for wanting to read amusing blogs, then skip this one and go to the neighboring blog instead.
I have warned you! And you still keep on reading!
Go away now!
Okay you are very hard-headed, eh? Since you are insistent, do not blame me. Because today, on account of November 1 being the Day of the Dead, I want to talk about Death. No nonsense. Just a casual talk about Death. Many people find it morbid talking about Death. Not me.
Here it is.
Death is the cessation of life. Meaning, when the cells in your body no longer function, that's it. You're dead. In a few hours your body will stiffen-Rigor Mortis, and in another few hours your body becomes cold. Don't worry, these things won't hurt--because you are already dead. And dead don't feel anything. That's the bonus.
The mortician arrives and he disembowels you. And your family pays him to do that. Sucks. The coffin maybe expensive bronze or cheap lawanit. It depends on the funds of your relatives--or more precisely, the funds you left your family with. If you are a rich Chinese, then your coffin maybe even be partially made of gold.
Meantime, you have the worse make-up in your life. And the worse hairdo. The dead don't get rebond, you know. Many times, while living, you hoped to have a complete make-over. Now you get it--when you're dead. Free. And people who look at you in the coffin will console your family that you don't look dead, you only look sleeping--which is the biggest lie in the world. No dead person looks sleeping unless he's wearing his favorite pajamas. In that case they should throw in a hug pillow as well.
Most likely, the dress you worn in your graduation will also be your dress in the coffin. Now isn't that wonderful?
Your family will look at you, tears in their eyes, as you lay inside the coffin. Flowers and bouquets start to gather near your coffin. You didn't like the smell of those while living. Why don't they just get artificial instead?
For three or four nights, you lie there dead while people around you are playing baraha, betting in Sakla, playing Tong-its, or playing stupid games. People are having fun while you lay stiff in a claustrophobic box with all these malignant flowers around you. Not to mention you're heavy make-up. Gaaaah! You want to wake up and tell the people to stop this idiocy and get it done over with quickly. But of course, you cannot wake-up because you are already dead.
The big day arrives. If you're a rich Chinese, then you get some paid people to wail for you. But if you're the average Filipino, you finally have the chance to ride in the most expensive car you've ever ridden--a Cadillac, complete with sound system. The sounds, however, is not your favored rock or heavy metal group, but some tenor from the 1930s. You finally enjoy being dead for the first time, not being able to hear that horrendous music.
Your funeral march is delayed by traffic, the traffic policemen are having siesta inside their air-conditioned car. But finally and eventually, your entourage arrives in the cemetery. If you are rich, you enter into a mausoleum. If you are the average dead, you either enter into a nitso, or lowered to a pit grave. A priest or pastor blesses you, says the most wonderful lies about you. Everyone agrees.
The lowering of your casket is the most dramatic scene--like the lowering of the curtain in a dramatic stage-play. Eventually, people begins to leave, says words of consolation to your relatives. They proceed to the restaurant to have a nice meal.
And you...you are left there alone..in a cold and lonely soil..But you have company..the ants and worms...they become your best friends as they turn you from a human corpse in to a soil fertilizer.
Happy Day of the Dead.
I have warned you! And you still keep on reading!
Go away now!
Okay you are very hard-headed, eh? Since you are insistent, do not blame me. Because today, on account of November 1 being the Day of the Dead, I want to talk about Death. No nonsense. Just a casual talk about Death. Many people find it morbid talking about Death. Not me.
Here it is.
Death is the cessation of life. Meaning, when the cells in your body no longer function, that's it. You're dead. In a few hours your body will stiffen-Rigor Mortis, and in another few hours your body becomes cold. Don't worry, these things won't hurt--because you are already dead. And dead don't feel anything. That's the bonus.
The mortician arrives and he disembowels you. And your family pays him to do that. Sucks. The coffin maybe expensive bronze or cheap lawanit. It depends on the funds of your relatives--or more precisely, the funds you left your family with. If you are a rich Chinese, then your coffin maybe even be partially made of gold.
Meantime, you have the worse make-up in your life. And the worse hairdo. The dead don't get rebond, you know. Many times, while living, you hoped to have a complete make-over. Now you get it--when you're dead. Free. And people who look at you in the coffin will console your family that you don't look dead, you only look sleeping--which is the biggest lie in the world. No dead person looks sleeping unless he's wearing his favorite pajamas. In that case they should throw in a hug pillow as well.
Most likely, the dress you worn in your graduation will also be your dress in the coffin. Now isn't that wonderful?
Your family will look at you, tears in their eyes, as you lay inside the coffin. Flowers and bouquets start to gather near your coffin. You didn't like the smell of those while living. Why don't they just get artificial instead?
For three or four nights, you lie there dead while people around you are playing baraha, betting in Sakla, playing Tong-its, or playing stupid games. People are having fun while you lay stiff in a claustrophobic box with all these malignant flowers around you. Not to mention you're heavy make-up. Gaaaah! You want to wake up and tell the people to stop this idiocy and get it done over with quickly. But of course, you cannot wake-up because you are already dead.
The big day arrives. If you're a rich Chinese, then you get some paid people to wail for you. But if you're the average Filipino, you finally have the chance to ride in the most expensive car you've ever ridden--a Cadillac, complete with sound system. The sounds, however, is not your favored rock or heavy metal group, but some tenor from the 1930s. You finally enjoy being dead for the first time, not being able to hear that horrendous music.
Your funeral march is delayed by traffic, the traffic policemen are having siesta inside their air-conditioned car. But finally and eventually, your entourage arrives in the cemetery. If you are rich, you enter into a mausoleum. If you are the average dead, you either enter into a nitso, or lowered to a pit grave. A priest or pastor blesses you, says the most wonderful lies about you. Everyone agrees.
The lowering of your casket is the most dramatic scene--like the lowering of the curtain in a dramatic stage-play. Eventually, people begins to leave, says words of consolation to your relatives. They proceed to the restaurant to have a nice meal.
And you...you are left there alone..in a cold and lonely soil..But you have company..the ants and worms...they become your best friends as they turn you from a human corpse in to a soil fertilizer.
Happy Day of the Dead.
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