I'm still in bed. I'm considering not getting up.
I was just thinking how often, on days like this, I don't want to get up. At first I thought it was something to do with the weather, but then I realized it's just me. I feel tired and very blah, sort of emotionally empty, and my body doesn't feel so good. I just want to stay in bed. Actually, that's every day, I think. Yeah, I feel like that every day. I never want to get up. Maybe I should just never get up.
Of course, that sounds like death. Death is not getting up. Ever. Some people find you there, not getting up, and they move you around to a couple of places - maybe a hospital, a morgue, a funeral home. They poke and prod you a bit, to be sure that you're not going to get up. Finally, they put you into this weird, expensive, stylized bed, which is probably very uncomfortable. But you don't really care, cause you're just not getting up.
Your friends and family all show up for a really bad party. Then they either move you (and that weird little bed) to someplace else, someplace very out of the way, or they just let your soul continue sleeping while they get rid of your body, or at least minimize it. So long as you take up as little space as possible.
Yep, that's it, that's what happens when you die. There's a bad party, then people get you out of the way because they need the space. Various people get your stuff, and eventually somebody else moves into your place - literally and figuratively. And meanwhile, you're just off out of the way, not getting up.
. . .
. . .
Well. . . I guess I should get up now.
