I think...from my own experiences and the conversations I've had with other terminally ill people...that I have a different view on life/death than others who are not ill.
I don't care what happens to my body after I die...cut it up, eat it, burn it, shit on it, fuck it, do whatever you'd like. It's no matter to me.
I don't fear death, I accept it, I've experienced it, I live it everyday. I have chosen not to be afraid because it's a completely wasteful emotion.
I avoid funerals, because when I go, I don't get sad. I don't cry when I hear of people I loved dying. I don't shed tears during the wrenching ceremonies. Death to me is, just a fact. It just is.
Consequently, when I do attend funeral services, I stay as far away from the crowds as possible, embarrassed by my lack of emotion.
Last night we watched, as a house, a few live autopsy videos, and controversy ensued.
Disrespect, they cried.
Disgusting, was inferred.
I was intrigued and got very very upset with the argument and had to remove myself from it. Who the fuck cares? It's a body, not a person anymore. In the same way a fetus isn't human until it's alive, nor is a human AFTER it's alive.
It's just a body. What the hell do I care what happens to it?
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