Horatio, I am dead.

Again. The more he declares it, the less dead he seems. Perhaps one could keep one’s self alive just by declaring one’s self dead enough. I am dead! I am dead!

Maybe that’s why Goths tend to age well – in declaring their proximity to death throughout their lives, they call forth Death’s unruly side, his/its contrary aspect.

“You’re dead?” he thinks, “No. Not even close. In fact, it’s even further now. You want me close to you? Sorry, Charlie, it’s going to be a long time til we meet.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.