Some people go to bed at night and thank God for all the wonderful things that happened to them during the day.
Not me.
I go to bed at night feeling disgusted, and also relieved that the day is finally over and then I ask God to please let me die in my sleep.
I have a friend who died in his sleep. His life situation was similar to mine. He was married, in his forties, had four kids and was healthy. He died in 2011.
I had not been in touch with him for quite a while, so one day I decided to do an Internet search using his name to see if I could find any information concerning his whereabouts.
I found his obituary! So then I searched for his sister on facebook and found her. I sent her a message immediately to get some info about the cause of his death. She said he had “heart arrhythmia” and died in his sleep.
I thought how lucky he was. I can’t think of a more pleasant way to die. I wondered if he had actually wanted to die in his sleep or if it just happened unexpectedly.
Ever since that day, I think of him every night before falling asleep and I wish that the same thing would happen to me.
Depressed people will understand. There is nothing negative about death. It is the ultimate metamorphosis of the human being. Of course I believe in an afterlife, so basically I visualize death as some kind of release, where the real me (the soul) detaches from its eggshell (the physical body) and starts a new life. To me, death is a birth.
Every morning I wake up, open my eyes, look around the room and think: “Shit, I’m still here.”
Metamorphosis 