Anonymous 07/20/20(Mon)21:36:40 No.25598453▶

    >>25596688
    I deal with a dead body atleast once a week. Death becomes demystified about the 3rd or 4th time you need to figure out how to transfer a bloated rotting corpse to a gurney while maintaining some level of dignity and grace.

    Protip. You cant. If you die lonley enough that nobody finds you before we do, a couple of guys smoking cigarettes to hide the worst of the smell will joke about whether you were as fat, ugly, and smelly as your corpse is now while you were alive as they toss your disgusting bloated carcass around like a sack of potatoes.

    Frankly I think that death really isnt that special, very, very, VERY few die with anything approaching dignity, and that even if something of a person lives on after they die then its long departed by the time somebody like me gets there. If not, I'd like to think they'd treat the rotting sack of meat that they left behind with disdain and move on to better things like I will after I lie and tell your loved ones about how I can tell you died quickly and peacefully by the serene beatific look on your face. Meanwhile the truth is that you died alone after having a siezure, and spent some time gasping for air and drowning in vomit on a filth stained matress in your home, then laid there for weeks before anybody other than flies even bothered to notice, and even then only due to the fact that you didnt pay rent and your landlord noticed a stink when he showed up to bully atleast a few hundred bucks out of you.

    The west hides death, and when they cant, they try to dress it up in frilly nice platitudes and pat themselves on the back with delusions that atleast it was peaceful, and served some higher purpose. I prefer my traditional slavic ideas of death. That it was just some big, dumb, indiscriminate thing swinging a hammer that took you for no reason at any time it wanted.

    Maybe not polite, but far more honest.

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rcvrd jan 2021