More inspiration writing for the play that is a part of the San Francisco Olympians Festival on the god of nonviolent death, Thanatos.
Incidentally, I’ll be interviewed about the play along with Veronica Tjioe by fellow writer, Jovelyn Richards, who is the host of a radio program on KPFA, Jovelyn’s Boutique. This will be on Wednesday from 3:30-4:00 PM PST, so listen in or check out the archived interview later.
T: What is it like to die… what does it feel like for them? I don’t know… I try to make it painless, or at least, if there is pain, maybe I help them come to terms with it before finally releasing it. The process of death is both quicker and slower than you think.
Slower because, as you know, every moment in linear time is one step closer to it. To me. Quicker because ultimately, it’s simple. You are here and then you are not here.
The actual moment? I don’t know if it’s painful. I would imagine it is because everything in life lives on a pain scale. But maybe I’m wrong about that, maybe the feeling of death is the opposite of the feeling of life. Maybe what I do is painless.
How would I know that I had died and that I wasn’t just dreaming? See, that is where Sleep and Death — the fact that we’re twins — comes into play. It fools people. It’s calling for one when you mean the other. When you need the other.
Now that I have started to dream… Vivid dreams as true as day. I wonder what it would be like to live there instead of here. I wonder if my experience is tempered and adulterated by the feeling of waking. Disorienting light. Words that make no sense. Symbols. Birds flying backwards make no sense, but in the dream world it’s just another thing to notice or ignore.
It makes me appreciate the reality we call, “life” much more. Little things, like the way the sun creates a painting that no artistic genius would every be able to put together — every day. The way that water feels. The color of people’s eyes. The sound of footsteps. Wind. Did you know each moment contains so much to be in awe of?
I think some of them miss that.
If anything feels painful, it’s that realization. I could imagine that it’s heartbreaking, which is why all these souls have so much trouble remembering who they are. Only the truly strong would be able to hold even a little of that. It’s no judgement — the weight of experience is just too much after a while.