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Life and Death
Let me tell you something about Life.
Life stays out too late, drinking beer and smoking pot. Life always leaves his girlfriend in the middle of the night and doesn't call home. Life goes to college and flunks all his classes. Sometimes, Life will think he finally accomplishes something, finally does something right, only to fall flat on his face later. Life falls in love, and gets his heart broken. Life watches people hurt the ones they love the most. Everyone thinks they know Life – know who he is, know how he behaves, knows what will happen next, but Life is an unpredictable bastard. Life builds you up, makes you feel like he's on top of the world, then tears you down and laughs when your head smacks against the concrete floor.
Life doesn't care about you. And after a short amount of time, Life will leave you without a backward glance. He'll throw you out and dump you in the middle of the road to nowhere.
This is where I come in.
A lot of the people I pick up won't believe they're dead.
They clutch onto life with their numb, frozen fingers. They scream his name. They beg for him to come back. Then they start crying.
You have two kinds of criers.
The first kind: bawlers. They wail. Trails of mucus and tears streak their faces. Their eyes swell up into slits. Their shoulders heave, and they drag in wheezing, obnoxious breaths through their mouths. Wheeze. Sob. Wheeze. Sob. That is the soundtrack to my job.
The second kind: silent. I never know when it's going to happen. Maybe it's when I first meet them, or when I'm carrying them in my arms, or when I deposit them at their new home. No matter. When I look at them, all I can see is the tears sliding down their faces. They don't make a sound. They don't try to stop. They just let their eyes leak. They just let their soul leak.
Those are the humans I hate the most. Those are the humans that make me feel the most.
The last time Life and I met was a couple of years ago.
It took me forever to track him down; he needed to fill out some paperwork. He laughed and clapped me on the back and smelled like booze and happiness. He giggled when he dropped his pen, then yelled at the waitress when she forgot to hold the tomatoes on his burger. Life is bipolar like that. Don't ever trust him.
He poked at my chapped lips and declared that I was looking better than ever. My face remained still.
Like the humans say, Death is no laughing matter.
Humans fear the unknown. They can't live with the things that they can't understand.
Life tricks humans, messes them up. Life is too young and reckless. He does things without thinking. Life is the cause of all the sorrow in the world. All the pain, the unhappiness, the grief…you know who to blame it on.
Not me. Do not blame it on me.
7 billion people in this world. 7 billion people and Life tricks every single one of them into thinking that they have a chance. A chance in being different, a chance in standing out and changing the world. Everyone thinks that I'm the biggest trickster, the biggest liar of them all, but in all honesty, I've never lied. I have never whispered sweet nothings into your ear, promising you of a better future and a possibility to achieve your dreams.
Humans know what I am.
I am a result.
I can take away your pain. I can take away your problems. I can guarantee you an eternity, while Life can only promise you a couple of years. However, this blissful oblivion comes with a price. You must give yourself to me. You must trust in me and do not look back.
The thing that I hate most about Life?
Without him, I do not exist.