Tuesday, October 6

The smell of death

I have always marveled at how reporters tend to sensationalized a news story by adding a twist here and there to add more juice to the story. Let me give you a simple example.

Take an automobile accident. Since that seems to be happening everyday, and being reported daily, you can't help but to come across them the moment you check the daily news. Some resulted in death, some lucky ones escaped. But the stories that  I'm curious about are the ones where someone died from the resulting crash. So you get the story of the accident, perhaps how it happened, and the name of the deceased. Then the story of the loved ones being left behind.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm sure what was written was what being told to them. Often times, you will come across something like this - "the deceased has been acting strangely lately. Heck, he even sent me a text message seeking forgiveness etc etc". And now he's dead.

I find it amazing that some people are gifted with the premonition of death, that they can sense it approaching. I imagine it to feel cold, maybe a sense of detachment, and the realization that time is so precious but yet you feel like everything has slowed down. And you know that scene where your whole life flashes before your eyes, only that since you still have time, you get clips of your life, slowly emerging at odd minutes. And the weird thing is things that you have forgotten before, come back and you can somehow have a very vivid picture of it again.

Like the house where I used to stay in Panorama St., I can now remember every single details about the house. The layout of the house, the kitchen and it's stove, the oval table at the dining hall where plenty of card games took place during those long summer nights, Caitlyn's poster on my door, the laundry room with the cat litter in it, and the tree at the corner of the house, where it stood alone and stoic, watching over the house throughout the whole time.

I found out that the house was demolished a few years later. So whatever remained, they are all in my memories now.

Have you ever feel that death is so near, that you can feel it, taste it, or even smell it?

And for some strange reason, death smells like semen. The irony, of course, is mind-blowing.

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