WAB
Veteran Member
Perspicuo,
There is really, and I really do mean really, no reason at all to fear death.
The fear of death is tied to our sense of time, I think. We imagine ourselves non-existent forever, which seems like an awfully long time. But in reality, to be dead for a second is equal to being dead for ten trillion years. Time doesn't apply to a dead person. Eternity is the snap of a finger.
When I had to have two teeth extracted, I told the oral surgeon that I wanted to be unconscious during it. In fact, I said that that was the only way I was going to agree to having the procedure done. I have an aversion to dental work of any kind. I can't stand even sitting in that hideous chair with my mouth agape while someone diddles around inside it. Anyway, when they put me out, I remember counting backwards from 100. I may have gotten to 97, but by 98 I was euphoric, then I was being wakened.
There was no intervening time for me, though there was in reality. I went from counting 98, 97, to waking up, in the snap of a finger. I'm fairly sure that death won't be any worse an experience. There just won't be any waking up. But I won't know that, nor care. I'll be gone.*
Death is nothing to be afraid of. We've already been dead for as long as we ever will be dead.
**Unless there's an afterlife, a heaven or hell, something along those lines.
There is really, and I really do mean really, no reason at all to fear death.
The fear of death is tied to our sense of time, I think. We imagine ourselves non-existent forever, which seems like an awfully long time. But in reality, to be dead for a second is equal to being dead for ten trillion years. Time doesn't apply to a dead person. Eternity is the snap of a finger.
When I had to have two teeth extracted, I told the oral surgeon that I wanted to be unconscious during it. In fact, I said that that was the only way I was going to agree to having the procedure done. I have an aversion to dental work of any kind. I can't stand even sitting in that hideous chair with my mouth agape while someone diddles around inside it. Anyway, when they put me out, I remember counting backwards from 100. I may have gotten to 97, but by 98 I was euphoric, then I was being wakened.
There was no intervening time for me, though there was in reality. I went from counting 98, 97, to waking up, in the snap of a finger. I'm fairly sure that death won't be any worse an experience. There just won't be any waking up. But I won't know that, nor care. I'll be gone.*
Death is nothing to be afraid of. We've already been dead for as long as we ever will be dead.
**Unless there's an afterlife, a heaven or hell, something along those lines.
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