by John Dodd

And now everyone knows why I say a prayer to my son every evening.

They say the eyes are windows to the soul, I'm not so sure about that.

You see, I have a different perspective, a rather unique one you might say.

I have killed people, I have taken my time over it, I have held their eyes
open while they die, it's all there, but you'll never understand any of it,
all you can see is them refusing to accept that they're gone. There's no
soul there, just the inevitability of death.

You know what the funny thing is?

Ever seen a person sleeping? Ever opened their eyes and watched them
sleeping? You see that dull, lifeless stare? That's what I see every time
I take one more on the long ride.

Of course, death is a relative term these days, we can rebuild you, that's
how the slogan goes isn't it?

Well, you just trust me on this one, they can't rebuild the parts that
count. Do you want to know why people die?

No, you don't really, but I'm going to tell you anyway, just so you'll know.

Everyone dies everyday, you may think that strange, but it's not really,
when you "sleep", you're not there anymore, you don't really exist at that
stage, you're dead there. Do you know why you wake up every morning? Do
you know why you are reborn?

Because you remembered something when you died, there was something in this
world that still tied you to this place, and when you died, that string held
you to this place.

Oh, I know what you're thinking, what about those people who get shot, those
people who get killed violently, those people who die of nasty diseases,
those people who die of old age?

You think about that, do you think that when that bullet puts them to sleep,
they're thinking about what's important in their life? No, no, no, they're
thinking about that bullet, and so they don't remember, and so they don't
come back. Look in the paper, every day there's a story about a person who
miraculously survived against all odds, ask them how they did it. Every
time, you'll find that they were thinking about something else, not the
bullet, maybe their family, maybe their friends, but they were never
thinking about the bullet, that's how they survived.

But I dream, I have nightmares, what about them, I hear you say.

Ever wonder why you never finish a dream, why a nightmare makes you wake up
screaming? Simple, those are the memories of the life you lead when you die
here, ever wonder why you wake up when you die in a nightmare? It's because
you did die, and if you hadn't woken up, you'd be dead here as well.

Ah, I hear you saying, what does this have to do with anything, if what
you're saying is right, I can live forever, all I have to do is remember
something every day, right?


And here's the little thing that makes life a fearful thing.

All you have to do is remember something that means something to you, do
that and you can live forever, how much of a tragedy will it be when you die
just because nothing means anything anymore?

Now you know where I live.