My Own Death Just around the Corner

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by pochsuzara

by pochsuzara

"Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth -- more than ruin, more even than death. Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible, thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habits; thought is anarchic and lawless, indifferent to authority, careless of the well-tried wisdom of the ages. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid ... Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man."

Bertrand Russell

In the meantime, as a senior citizen, indeed, as a thinking man, much to my expectation, I am told that any day now I will be dead and gone. I think so myself. I am, however, ready to go. I am not afraid of death. It's one of the sick laws of nature that no one can escape away from. Whatever or however the case may be, death is not the greatest tragedy in life. The greatest tragedy is what dies inside us, frightened or childish as we remain, while we still live.

But before I go, however, I must treble up writing down my endless series of thought to provoke the thoughts of others. There are still so much for me to say before I leave this world forever. Specially for those still stuck and still frightened of ancient myths and superstitions. It's time to wake up, to stand up, and to speak up. It's time to enjoy one of life's most precious of freedoms - the freedom of thought to put more power and beauty into life's another greatest of freedoms - the freedom of expression.
After death, however, even if we were still alive in spirit after death, I ask: with what eyes shall we see; with what ears shall we hear; with what nose shall we smell; with what palate shall we taste; with what skin shall we feel; with what sexual organ shall we have sex; and indeed, with what brain shall we be able to think?
In the final analysis, We do not die partially or temporarily. We die entirely and, indeed, permanently. Nothing is more evident to him who is not delirious. The human body, after death, is but a mass of meat, incapable of producing any movement the union of which constitute life. We no longer see circulation, respiration, digestion, reflection, or the freedom of confusion. Nothing is more natural and more simple than to believe that the dead man is no more. There is nothing more absurd than to believe that the dead man is still alive.
H. L. Mencken, with much intellectual sense, summarized neatly for all of us to clearly see: "Immortality is the condition of a dead man who does not believe that he is already dead."
For my part, as an atheist, I said it before, I say it again: If we must die, let us die sober, and not drunk with lies. I do not regret nor do I feel sorrow at the death of a love-one, a relative, a friend, or an associate.

I am happy with the thought that the dead are already resting in peace forever and can no more be bothered with theological misconceptions, ecclesiastical illusions, biblical delusions, apostolic confusions, or with catholic deceptions more referred to as revelation!

In the meantime, on this earth, I would rather be an enlightened thinker than be a frightened believer. An atheist is a courageous thinker who cares! If we must leave this world one day, we should try to leave it as a better place than how we found it. Not necessarily in the material, but in the utilitarian or in the humanitarian sense.

Poch Suzara