The Day You Die
How would it feel to wake up on the day you die? What would it be like to realize that today would be the end of the rest of your life?
Well of course, unless you plan to die by lethal injection, by suicide or by euthanasia, you would not realize that you are destined to die in 24 hours, right? I do not believe in predestination (gives me the I’m-not-in-control-of-my-life feeling), but hey, reality check! Nowadays, people do “just die.” One moment you are alive, the next you are, errr, dead.
So I wonder: what would it be like NOT to realize that today, you are supposed to die?
I mean, what will you think about first thing in the morning? Your Fantasy Island dream interrupted by your bedside alarm clock? Pandesal and coffee? Your ever increasing pile of unfinished school or office work? Will the thought of dying, even the slightest hint, occur to you at all? Probably not.
In that case, what will you worry about? Pimples invading your face? The peso-dollar exchange rate? Your internet and credit card bills? Your ballooning body weight? World peace? Will you take time to notice your very last morning sky? Or will you be more concerned about the ruggedly-dressed guy who seems to be suspiciously eyeing your cell phone?
Will you, unaware of your imminent death, waste your last few hours cursing about the traffic and the relentless rain? What other things will you be angry about? Your lack of artistic skills? Graft and corruption? Junk e-mail? Salbakuta and Eminem on the radio all day long? The janitor’s failure to clean the CR?
What will you care about then? Your Libre horoscope? The two children lying on the sidewalk? Keeping your brand new pants stain-free, wrinkle-free and dust-free? UP budget cut? The winning Lotto combination?
Which will be your final answer: Left or right? Champ or Big Mac? Pirated or original? Church or Rockwell? Joyce or Assunta / Orlando Bloom or Shane West?
Towards the end of the day, will you measure your height against a wall/tree/lamppost? Will somebody actually see you walking headless/armless/legless and fail to call your attention?
After all these, what will you forget? Your handkerchief? The Panatang Makabayan? To brush your teeth? The lyrics of Here Is Gone? The name of your college friend who once lent you two thousand pesos? How to pray? Perhaps more important, what will you remember? Your childhood dreams? The math exams you failed? Your first love letter? The name of your rival who always wanted to get the better of you? To call your mother?
Then you die. And you would not even know it.
Notice how things become too trivial when placed in this grand context of life and death? I wish I knew what I would be doing on the day I die. On second thought, maybe I’d rather not. Sooner or later, even if I didn’t want to, I would know.
We all would.