It’s strange how a small fact intertwined with the human race has managed to keep me up for several hours dead in the middle of the night, envisaging how it ought to look like. Would it be slow, tortuous, devoid of feelings, too bright, vague, translucent? And after it happens, what next? Does it go all white, enveloping one in an unfathomable mist till whatever we all hope for comes? Or is it like a recycling machine, where I’m rebirthed and made anew? My confusion knows no bounds.
And it doesn’t even end there.
I saw it.
It came over last night.
I couldn’t feel a thing until the last moment. It stood right at my bedside waiting for all of it to be over. It didn’t even reach out a hand to help me understand and get through it. Instead, it watched. I thought: “finally, it’s here. So this is what it feels like – nothing.” Not even a simple entanglement of body, soul and spirit. I couldn’t even remember what scared me about the whole ordeal in the first place.
It felt… oh yeah! I couldn’t feel a thing.
I was halfway out when it all rushed back in. Then I stopped. I didn’t want it to end that way with no one being able to do anything other than mourn. It seemed surprised at my sudden stillness as it went around the bed and looked me in the eye. I stood my ground, refusing to go into nothingness. The oblivion scared me; worse still, the hurt that would be left behind. It looked like it finally understood my fears as it backed out slowly, disappearing totally out of my mind and harbor.
I returned to my body but that only seemed to add more questions to the already growing pile scrawled in the middle pages of my aged diary.
Does the human race have a say as to when it comes? Or do we just stand there and accept all its orders like a puppet in a show? I had a chance to fight it no matter how fictitious it sounds. Does it? Was it just a figment of my imagination brought about by my fears working hand-in-hand with whatever scientists think design images in the mind?
Now I’m more confused. It had felt so real.