I can't beleive I'm here to tell the tale, this was my first brush with death, and God must have been looking after us and obviously, it wasn't our time.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Death is very mysterious to us. One moment someone is there with us, and the next moment they're not.
I think the mythology of death really ran away with me when I was very young.
I began to believe the fairy tales: You know, how we're all out there looking for our magical missing half.
I believe that our friends among the dead really mind us and look out for us. Often there might be a big boulder of misery over your path about to fall on you, but your friends among the dead hold it back until you have passed by.
After that I could never pass a dead man without stopping to gaze on his face, stripped by death of that earthly patina which masks the living soul. And I would ask, who were you? Where was your home? Who is mourning for you now?
There is an afterlife. I am convinced of this.
It puzzled me that other people hadn't found out, too. God was gone. We were younger. We had reached past him. Why couldn't they see it? It still puzzles me.
Some of the evil of my tale may have been inherent in our circumstances. For years we lived anyhow with one another in the naked desert, under the indifferent heaven.
I didn't know why God had chose me for this ordeal, but I was somehow suited to it and knew that I would see it through to the end.
I think God just died of old age. And, when I realized that he wasn't any more, it didn't shock me. It seemed natural and right!