Someone Close to Me Died and I’m Just Like, ‘Whatever, Universe!’
I’m done with life. Officially.
Once upon a time, an unbelievably tragic and sudden death occurred. No happy ending was in sight. But life apparently had to go on anyway.
A young-ish, beautiful, perfect person was taken away from the Earth plane and from opportunities for their physical existence to spread joy, turning hope immediately into darkness. Happiness had been achieved apparently just so it could be yanked away.
This person died, passed into spirit form, and I found myself promptly wishing I was also dead because, let’s face it, nobody wants to live in a dumb universe like this one. People die, sure, but under such horribly, karmically ironic, and unexpected circumstances? No. That wasn’t fair.
Instead of wishing I was dead, it occurred to me that I might be okay if I was allowed to live inside Disney World forever.
Sarcasm and cynicism set in for me. Spirit told me I needed to keep laughing. The deceased that are still with us in non-physical form want us to keep things light. It’s how we heal. It’s how I keep my sanity. (That hasn’t been fully confirmed yet.)
