It’s not a form, it’s not an invitation or directions to heaven. In point of fact, it’s entirely blank.
When you die, you get a blank sheet of paper and a pen. What else you get is not much. You get space. Infinite, unyielding, tar black space. Technically it’s open but you might as well be in a room. You can’t really see anything but the paper and the pen, which are plenty visible.
You have a body, sort of. You don’t need to eat anymore or to run your fingers through your hair. You don’t need to stretch your lips and feel them crack when they are chapped. You don’t need lips at all. You can’t even really see your body in the absence of a mirror, but you know it has to be there, like your ears when you can’t see them, because the job gets done.
When you die, you get a sheet of blank paper, a pen, and hands to write with. And that’s all. That and time.
You sit for a long while—two days maybe—thinking about the time. It feels like two days, anyway, and that feels very long to you. You know you’re dead—you remember the tree trunk, or the oncoming car, or the sudden, sharp pain in your left arm and chest. So you sit and you think—what next? Is this a test?
Isn’t it kind of disturbing when people use the term “sick” to describe something they’re disgusted by? Like “this man is sick and I hope he rots in jail.” Nah, that’s not what you hope for sick people. Use a different metaphor for your hateful thoughts.
Do you ever just want a plain slice of chocolate cake but everything is called “DECADENT CHOCOLATE CATASTROPHE” and “TRIPLE LAYER FUDGE HORROR” and stuff and it’s just like come on I want a slice of cake not an emergency.
What Do Girls' Names Say About Their Personalities?
Emily — You are a devoted friend. You often prioritize the happiness of others above your own. Try to set some time aside for yourself!
Anita — You are the queen of esoteric talents! You can juggle, moonwalk, walk fast, spit into anyone’s mouth, slap your dad awake when he’s sleeping, and rob stores then burn the money.
Hannah — You’re a bleeding heart. Literally! Gross. Get a body, Hannah!
Rebecca — Family means everything to you. Anyone’s family. You like to go into their houses and tie them up and gag them, then act out all the Simpsons couch gags with your new living puppets.
Rhonda — That’s a stupid name. Are you a mom? That’s a mom name.
Yasmin — You know how to party! By knocking everyone out with codeine and drawing nude Dr. Seuss characters all over them. Is that a Grinch dick? That’s a Grinch dick!
Gina — Gina, you are so boring it’s criminal! Get a personality, Gina!
Charlotte — You’re super feisty and nothing can stand in the way of your goals. If your goal is to pick up a quarter off the sidewalk and someone gets to it first, they’ll get a sea urchin up the ass courtesy of Charlotte (that’s you!).
Marissa — It’s your destiny to find the other half of the amulet and follow the path it reveals. Get on that, Marissa! You go girl!
Kristin or Kristen — You are a real planner; an organization freak! You planned the Kennedy assassination.
Current Mood: after adjusting for billions of years to the rapid expansion of the sun, humanity has moved to a not-too-distant solar system in preparation for their star’s inevitable collapse. One night, countless generations after the move, the migrated gather under the night sky and watch reverently as the star that gave birth to humanity dies. They feel orphaned, in a way, even though the last humans to live on earth died millennia ago. I gotta pee.