Did a plant ever speak to you from the depths of a dream? (A dog did in mine, once)
After you’re good and dead, what do you want? Not that it’ll make any difference…probably. But really, would you like to carry any of you into the transition?
What do you hope for after death pulls the shade on you from this side?
To remember? How we value our consciousness, our own me-ness.
Perhaps, if we re-merge with the womb…would that be progress? Who said anything about progress? Was it Mary Kay?
Were we meant to always be separate? What does meant mean, anyway?
I wouldn’t opt for hell, but not to be disrespectful, feel I don’t want to be dandled on another father’s knee forever, either.
Do I really want to be alone forever? (Just not with some people, I guess). What a mouthful: forever!
Back to consciousness. While I don’t want Groundhog Day every lifetime, is it all downhill after this? Back to the atom after Beethoven?
Do I not get a goody for not throttling my husband? If so, what would that goody be?
I won’t care any more, they say. I’d better let go or stay on as a ghost.
Dust to dust…”Hey! I’m in here!”
Like sleeping, they say, but no dreaming?
What do you want to dream about forever? The past? The future? The eternal now?
In your dreams did a plant ever speak to you?
Genius!
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