Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Hey Jude

Death never looks how you expect it to; whether in movies or on TV, it's all really generic. This is not so bad, but obviously there is no ballad playing in the background, no onlookers feeling sorry for you. It's all just very simple. I went downstairs, and my knees were shaking so bad, not because I was particularly sad-- shock had taken a grip on me, but I was afraid of a body, a body I had known my entire life and longer still-- but they were knocking nonetheless, and I could hardly get down the stairs. Turning around the corner, he seemed perfectly alive, just sleeping. But death's facade is tricky, and in the state of not wanting to believe it, I feined ignorance. I will tell you though, it is a still that no other void, not even space could possibly account for. It's more than just quiet and alone-- it's knowing that you aren't alone but with someone who you know and love, and they arent quite there. You realize, you really realize that physical characteristics are so unworthy of the soul, because essentially, looking at my dad, it wasnt my dad, because he wasnt talking to me, telling me that the basement was too cold, or asking me how tennis was going. And it isnt just physical things, it's mental as well-- knowing that you just want to shake the crap out of them, make them wakeup, tell them they're being foolish, but it just grips you, and you turn away because that stillness will burn you like a rampant flame. If you are lucky enough to only have 1st or 2nd degree burns, you can get out without it consuming you, but if you fall into the fire, it will turn you into ash and you will surely blow into the wind, your many particles becoming unfathomable and unrecognized by anyone. And so it happens that death is different than any kind of wind, or flame, or water-- it is an element in it's own, and only the most stable of statures can seek comfort while knowing the finality of it. These people are the ones that will not let it turn them, or most importantly, their hearts into earth's most solitary element, stone.

1 comment:

Your Favorite Teacher said...

Wow! This is so beautifully written! We must include it in the literary magazine! You have grown so much as a writer. This is beautiful prose, Lauren! A clean slate is now a beautiful slate.