It’s so dark that for awhile, just how long I don’t know, I think I’m still unconscious. Or maybe I am. I’m awake when I dream, my feelings are authentic and inseparable from the reality. I open my eyes, I can’t see anything. Did I lose my vision, or is it just too dark here?
I leave my physical body, the one I call “emotionless husk” or my “temporary resident”.I feel myself drifting along some immaterial thing I cannot name, awake and unawake, always at the verge of the abyss.
Oh, I see.
I died yesterday.
Yes, that’s right. I died yesterday in a car accident, I was trying to make a u-turn, but didn’t realize there was a car coming from another way. I couldn’t recall anything exactly, but everything I could think of was slow-motion, the pedestrians walking on the street slowly making shocked face; glasses being broken and got all over my face; mom’s vague figure flashing in the white light. The next thing was the ambulance, then I was in the hospital. That’s all I can recall from yesterday. Then I’m here.
Ok, then where the **** am I?
Let me do a quick analysis. I’m pretty sure I’m dead because I clearly heard the surgeon announcing my death. My heart must have been stopped by that time, but I truly felt the pain when I knew I was dead, as if a little kid had been taken away his favourite candy. I even had this thought that, tomorrow’s headline news would be:  “ A Wells Fargo Employee Died at the Age of 35 in a Car Accident.” How funny would that be to find myself on a newspaper, haha.
I used to be indifferent to whether natural disasters or murders or whatever, I tried to act like other people who cried for their families who died; I tried to cry among people, tried to make myself feel bad for them, but eventually found myself hard to shed any tears. I wouldn’t even spend one second on praying for others. I asked little from other people, therefore, there really wasn’t a lot connection between me and others. I hardly have the feeling of sympathy aroused, like never. I don’t know, I never cried. However, this time, I was the one who died. Indeed, I felt loss, I felt bad about myself. I thought I somehow could live until my eighties. I even had a plan for my life after I get retired, I would have a cat and hopefully I could spend some good time with her before she dies.
But another question is, how many people will cry over my death? Do they really care about me, or they just don’t want to be embarrassed among the crying ones. I don’t know, and I will never see them again.
I’ve read poems praising lives, talking about how strong humans can be under the attempt of evil, how great God is to defeat the evil nature of sins and bring all of us to life. But I’ve never read one poem talking about how futile the life is. I am being honest, for I’m dead already, there’s nothing more for me to lose. I mean, I’ve already lost the most important thing in my life, what else bothers me?
Sometimes I wondered, who’d I be if I received kisses from my mom and was held close to her warm, beating heart. Everyone should have a clear sense of what “mom” means to them, while for me, mom is someone I missed dearly. But she remained ambiguous, I sometimes forgot what she looked like. She left me when I was about 10, and I think the impact was somehow big enough to shape my life after that. I dreamed about her heartwarming smile; her well-made cookies; her tears when she left the house, I’d never seen someone crying as hard as she was.
I lost my imagination since I was 25. Nothing interests me, I attend many activities at school, but nothing holds me. Of course I have my “big dream”, but it vanished after I graduated from college. Well, I guess that’s most of the people have to experience, everyone has dream. The difference between us and Steve Jobs is our capacity to fulfill them. I am definitely one of the people who got defeated by life, I thought I would succeed like the people on Times magazine, thought I would be interviewed by a famous host, talking about my life stories, thought I would perform well at whatever I do.
I lost my capacity to dream and imagine. I worked and worked everyday, back into the little office I own, life exploits me in every aspect. And I couldn’t figure out what the point is of everything I was doing. I have a pretty tolerant boss, most of the time. He had some crappy days, but I was okay with that. I still see him as a passer-by, just like others, except he values a bit more.
I tried to love another person. I met her when I was in college, I fell in love with her at first sight. But after we’ve been with each other for 6 months, I lost my passion in that relationship. Of course, I was loyal to her all the time when we were together, but it seemed like she was the one who wanted to quit. After that, I found out I could still live a pretty good life on my own, I didn’t actually need another person to “take care” of me. I did feel captivated by someone else afterwards, but same thing happened every time. Time is the best way to examine love, I always found my love too superficial. Also I don’t want to get married. I’ve had enough from life, grumpy wife and kids to be fed are too much for me.
I used to wander with others on the edge of life and death. Unlike them, I took a step forward and drown myself into the darkness of death. Although I still don’t know where I am, it could be the interval between life and death, my mood is smooth and placid like a lake in the winter. Nothing bothers me, I am all alone. There’s nothing more for me to go over again. I’m always indifferent about everything, if there’ something that could interest me after this, I will be really grateful and maybe shed a few tears.
Yes, I am ready for whatever it’s going to happen to me, hell, heaven or thousands of reincarnations, I am ready for it.