This I Believe

Steven - West Yarmouth, Massachusetts
Entered on March 27, 2007
Age Group: 18 - 30
Themes: death
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I believe that there is death and only death, beyond dying. When I die, I’m going to be dead. People will talk and think about the good times we had. They’ll question whether or not I was a good boy and if God will let me hang out with him for the rest of eternity. But to be completely honest, I really don’t think I’m going to have to worry about it. For all I know my life is a dream spanned out over what seems like 18 years when in actuality it’s been only two hours into a massive concussion. To me god and heaven and all that righteous stuff are only real in the minds of everyone who wants to believe it. Just because something you want to hear so badly feels so real in life doesn’t mean it’s going to matter when your body doesn’t function any longer. Its sounds scary and maybe it is, but maybe that’s a good thing. Because I don’t have to be scared of hell my whole life just to keep me from swearing and taking my parents for granted or stealing when it may never pay off. I just think logically about everything and the effects they have on people’s happiness. Having this mind set makes me a much better person. If ever I’m about to put away the rest of the candy I’m eating when I see a group of people coming to talk to me, I don’t think to myself “Oh goodness, that’s terribly sinful of me to forget my sense of charity simply to save these gobstoppers all for myself. I’ll have more to put on my application to heaven if God thinks I’m charitable enough…” I think, Steve, your being an ass. If you like gobstoppers so much, what makes you think you couldn’t make five times as many people happy by sharing? If the box runs out, and you have no more, the box runs out and that’s the end of it. You did your best to share, now eat something else.” I figure if it’s not going to still be changing the world when I’m gone, than its worth giving up forever to make a few people a little happier. When I die, I’m going to be dead. I’m not going anywhere; I’m not keeping my heart as a souvenir. So I’m not going to be mad if people want to cut out my liver and junk. And why should I be, I’m not going to need it. I’d rather give my parts to charity not because I’ll have a better chance at being accepted into the afterlife, but because if I don’t then I’ll just be a dead guy, and whoever could use my kidney will just be a soon to be dead person themselves. But If I did, than I’d at least be the dead guy who let the cancer survivor have his kidney, who could maybe go on to give gobstoppers and kidneys to the next person, all in an effort to make the world a little bit happier, and a little bit better of a place.