When someone dies it brings upon us all the mortality in which we would rather not indulge. If we do, we have fantasies about our own funerals and engage in unhealthy obsessions of pains that seem to arise out of nowhere. Some of us lavish in the attention brought on by the grief we so publicly display; crying copious tears and sinking into prolific self pity. Then there are those of us who shut out all thoughts of the endings and keep those who have passed in our minds as if they’d never left, our only disturbance being the reminders of those committed to their mourning. We deal with it by burying our heads under covers with a close friend, we drink too much, and join anonymous organizations because we want to live forever--untouched by the great equalizer: obsolescence.
When death comes to relieve us of our place in time we are never ready.
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