On dying
I didn't ask to be born and I didn't ask to die either. I do not want to die. I think about dying and I get fucking terrified out of my mind. I don't know when it's going to happen. I don't know how it's going to happen. I don't know how it's going to happen until I'm already almost dead.
And after I die? Nothing. No samsara, no Heaven, no Hell, no purgatory, no Good Place. I used to attend church, but I was never Christian β I stopped going when I was around nine years old, and never paid too much attention anyway.
Despite my atheism, I still wish I believed in an afterlife. I want to live past my death, but it's impossible.
Or is it? See, my consciousness will be gone, but my words are going to be on the internet forever. Long after my death, people can still read the posts I made and feel the same feelings I did.
In a sense, I'm immortal. And so is everyone who has ever posted anything online. That thought helps me calm down just a little.
But I still wish I could be conscious postmortem. I like thinking.