A glimpse of the scythe


I hope you will see the irony of using this screenshot from Sims 3 to illustrate this entry. On the other hand, I am highly unlikely to send you any photographs when it eventually is my turn.

I was sitting peacefully in front of my computer when suddenly my vocal cords locked up, or that’s how it felt. For a few seconds, I could neither breathe nor make a sound. Finally I managed to clear my throat enough to breathe again.  My voice is still strange and kind of thick, and I feel like I need to clear my throat, but there is nothing there, just my throat getting more sore the more I attempt to clear it. So I try to just let it be, as much as I can.

When something like this happens, it reminds me that each day literally could be the last. I generally don’t think or act  like that, literally I mean.  If I thought like that, I would not buy extra groceries on Friday or Saturday, because I would not expect to live on Sunday.  I would never sign up for any kind of subscription, since I would be dead before I could use it.

On the other hand, I wonder if I am not still taking it too far in the other direction. In theory, I am opposed to killing time – time is my life, after all. But in practice I do a lot of stuff for fun, like playing computer games. Well, mostly that, but some other things too.  I just don’t take life all that seriously while there seems to be a lot of it.  That’s a human trait, but there are still some humans who manage to break out of it.

Anyway, I guess it is not certain that I will even have the chance to say goodbye.  Of course, that holds for others too.  Perhaps I should try to live a little more as if this was THEIR last day too.  If I’m around to do that, I mean.

I’m still nervous about the whole dying bit.  A part of me still fears that I will have to pay in the afterlife for the fun I have had as an ego in this life.  Actually the theology of that is somewhat uncertain, but it is a widespread belief that there must be justice in the world, and if justice is not brought in this life, it will come in the next.  I hope not, in a manner of speaking. Because I have had a lot of awesome years, and I would really be in trouble if I had to spend my afterlife contemplating what I could have done to help others instead.  Even without fire and pitchforks, it would hardly be pleasant.  As it is, all I can hope is that whoever and whatever God is, I will be forgiven because God knew from the get go that I wasn’t better than this, and did not expect me to be in practice. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!”

Anyway, once the Reaper’s scythe is out of sight, the pull of my ordinary fun life is back. And I guess it does not actively hurt anyone. But should that really be my highest aspiration?  I don’t honestly think so.  But it may be the only one I have fulfilled reasonably well so far. When I think about the murderous rage that used to be in my life, I guess doing no harm is something, if it lasts.  Still, I would like to set my sights higher, if I have the time.  If not, well, at least you know I don’t hate you, no matter who you are.  I suppose some who knew me long ago may have been in doubt about that…