sometimes i wonder when i lay down at night how i’m going to die. sometimes i wonder if life is my funeral and at the end, everyone will applaud for me and my failures. or sometimes i wonder if no one will care.
i don’t want to see my funeral. i’m glad i’ll be dead.
I went to my brother’s funeral in fact I organised it. It seemed to cost a lot of money but I felt ashamed to choose the cheap option. I wonder if that says more about me than anyone else. I mourned him. A lot. I saw him die. It was peaceful and beautiful. I hope I die like that. Not yet.
had to go to a funeral this week. actually have gone to 2 this year for students. nothing is much sadder than losing a young person. one I knew slightly one I knew very well. the one i knew well was a suicide and the the anguish and sadness is just massive
In the twilight, they lowered the coffin into the ground. “He’ll be alive again,” muttered an old lady dressed in black. She was hunched with age and did not bother wearing make up. She looked like she was dead herself. She said, “No one like him just dies of a heart attack.” Her son said, “Hm?” through his own tears.
It was a sad procession. Her father led her down the aisle – but not the way he had imagined 20 years ago when she was a wee baby. Tears dripped down his face meeting with the white of his beard indicating the stress he had been struck with.
I had to go to a funeral last night. It was so cold and lonely. I didn’t even know the man, it was someone from work. We’d exchanged a few “hellos” here and there. But never anything serious. His family was there, but they weren’t crying.
The only funeral I remember going to was the one for Jessie’s mom. My dad drove me there (I didn’t have my license yet) and he sat in the parking lot when I went inside. But actually… it wasn’t really a funeral I guess. It was the visitation. P.s. just noticed that the word “funeral” has the word “fun” in it. I’m probably very behind on that. Anyways, it wasn’t a very “fun” experience.
i have never been in a funeral. and i dont want to. i dont know how to act in a funeral. and i dont want to learn about it. the only funeral i dream about is mine. and there are not so many people there.
Funerals. They suck ass. Do you think I could stand another one? The way I’m already fucked up inside? I’ve only attended one funeral; and it was my grandfather’s on my mother’s side. I didn’t even know him. I was wearing a pair of blue jeans, black Ruxton Towers t-shirt, and black flip flops. I didn’t even cry. Is there something wrong with me? Why didn’t I cry?
sad tears death victory sting Lord heaven hell loss graduation see no more love lost can’t see you anymore black hymns missing you missing them time heals feel better but still miss you eternity when
Her hair is dying embers. Soft, pink roll of flesh over a goddess’ frame. Talon nails clutch June so tight it bleeds. She enters the small, dimly lit room. They are waiting to take her into the next room where a porcelain tub runs water unfit for thirst. Spiders and the roaches bow low before their queen. Red pumps crack the ancient sill and she takes hold of the lamp neck. Through the webby window out onto the shingles. Who has the upper hand at a table of dogs? Chimney spires, mutant giants. Take away an angels wings. Red shoes, she’s got red shoes and she’s ready to take a walk.
graves and despair voices from the ground rise up like owls into the night sky to the unending shining bright we’ll carry on we’ll carry on and though all hope is gone the moss grows over your name on the cold stone goodnight my darling
sad moments about to part with a person that you loved. People find them always so sad yet I laugh. I seem to be disrespectful but in reality thats just my way of showing that I care. I dont really know how to react in such situations. To be honest I kinda like them because you always find people that you havent seen in a very long time. I guess its like a reunion for those who are still here on earth. Its not a good bye its more like a see you later. We will all see each other at some point and then we will meet once again to talk and sing and dance like we once did. I dont really think death is that bad at all so funerals are really more selfish things. It is US wanting that departed person to be here while they may be in a much better place. WE are the ones that cant let go. The dead person no longer thinks if they want to be dead or alive. Besides earth is already hellish enough. You can’t really encounter much worse things in the other life, if there is one. Maybe there isnt and thats fine too. We cant live forever, it’s not healthy. What would you do when you can no longer do things, when you cant see and cant walk and cant talk properly. How about when you cant even remember things as well as you used to. Thats just sad. It must be frustrating. I dont know what I would do if that happened to me. I would probably want to die then. If I can no longer do anything then whats the point. We are alive to do things, to help and to live but when you no longer can do any of those its like you are overliving.
There is a casket in the front. Open. I see myself, younger, with my eyes closed and arms crossed. A funeral director in a suit standing by. Legs spread out and his arms crossed too, why is he wearing sunglasses?
Well, I have to go. Arriving I realised I didn’t have my cigarettes and start freaking out. My friend died of lung cancer and I was dying for a cigarette.
He stood back from the group of people that had gathered around the gash in the ground. Watching in delight as the dark high shine box was lowered into the ground. Grinning, he made his way back to his car, and then to his home, so he could brag. So he could say “I did that. I killed that man.”
I stared straight ahead, not sure what to do. I should be crying, I knew that. I should be outwardly mourning the loss, and yet I could not summon any tears. It was as if grief had already drowned me inside, leaving me waterless outside.
Just Friday we farewelled her. I was thinking I’d go and offer her a session, and I heard that she had died. The funeral, was a time to hear about the parts of her life I knew nothing of. I didn’t know she was a feminist.
The rain drops went pitter, patter, pitter, patter as they harshly hit the tent where the burial was taking place at the funeral. A funeral isn’t pleasant, it isn’t fun, especially for loved ones. But the sun came out, revealing where the dead who had faith in God lie-Heaven.
it was just a day. not really a sad day. somebody died though. that shouldnt make it special. poeple die everyday. i just happened to know this poor sucker. i guess thats the shitty part of it all.
I webt to my grandmas funeral once. We all laughed in the hearse. She was probably my closest family member. A funny lady. I didnt understand why the put ashes in the ground. Where did the ashes come from? I was 8.
Depending on who you asked in the family, Melon-Belly had either been the country’s best rabbit or the world’s worst nuisance. So many carrots eaten, so many carrots dug up. But the whole Turner family had to agree she had been memorable. A funeral was the only fitting thing.
funeral. has the word fun in it. real, too, scrambled up. everybody fantasizes about their own funeral. reminds me of tuesdays with morrie. some people eulogize on facebook pages of people who have died. i don’t have much more to say.
I’ve been to a lot of funerals.. the worst one being my uncle scotts. Even though it was a memorial service. It was sad. I hate crying in public. and I hate seeing others do it. God damn funerals are sad. they’re supposed to be celebration of life. but who wants to celebrate missing someone forever?
I was recently jus at one. It was my grandmothers. It was one of the saddest events of my life and will stick with me until I have one of my own. I learned a lot of life lessons and saw a lot of things that I will never forget. In the end funerals may seem bad but you learn a lot of good things.
Something so sad can be the only thing that keeps people together. 2 sides of a family may hate each other, but will come together for a death. They may not like each other, but they will at least respect each other for that night. How can death be the thing that makes us appreciate family, friends, and life? We should already know this.
I hate them all, they remind me of death and reality. I want out. I don’t want a funeral. That is all that I have to say or that ever needs to be said. No one should ever have to have a need for a funeral. There, I said more. Ta-da !
Funeral’s suck. What else am I supposed to say? I mean, who actually likes them. To be honest I don’t really understand them. We’re celebrating the life of someone else, why is it so sad? Are we saying they had a shitty life? Yes it’s horrible that they died, but who would want anyone to sap around about their death? I want my funeral to be fun. I want people to remember me that way, not upset.
I walked home from the funeral, not really sad at all, I mean I know funerals are supposed to make you sad but I just felt empty. Was their something wrong with me? Was I broken? Or maybe I was dying too?
sad hate regret love pain loss empty. Sometimes it’s waiting to happen, sometimes it should have never come. The tears, the conversations, the hugs, a time when people are finally brought together. But due to death? Is this what makes us remember how beautiful life is?
funeral always makes me fear God more, makes me want to go and pray so God would save our pour souls from hell, it makes me also very sad for the people whom which got left behind alone.
The first funeral I ever attended was my grandpa’s, last May. It was strange – nothing like how I thought it would be. Almost like a regular church service. No photos, no viewing, nothing personal. Some verses and singing, and we left. Disappointing. There is no fun at a funeral.
sometimes i wonder when i lay down at night how i’m going to die. sometimes i wonder if life is my funeral and at the end, everyone will applaud for me and my failures. or sometimes i wonder if no one will care.
i don’t want to see my funeral. i’m glad i’ll be dead.
I went to my brother’s funeral in fact I organised it. It seemed to cost a lot of money but I felt ashamed to choose the cheap option. I wonder if that says more about me than anyone else. I mourned him. A lot. I saw him die. It was peaceful and beautiful. I hope I die like that. Not yet.
had to go to a funeral this week. actually have gone to 2 this year for students. nothing is much sadder than losing a young person. one I knew slightly one I knew very well. the one i knew well was a suicide and the the anguish and sadness is just massive
In the twilight, they lowered the coffin into the ground. “He’ll be alive again,” muttered an old lady dressed in black. She was hunched with age and did not bother wearing make up. She looked like she was dead herself. She said, “No one like him just dies of a heart attack.” Her son said, “Hm?” through his own tears.
It was a sad procession. Her father led her down the aisle – but not the way he had imagined 20 years ago when she was a wee baby. Tears dripped down his face meeting with the white of his beard indicating the stress he had been struck with.
I had to go to a funeral last night. It was so cold and lonely. I didn’t even know the man, it was someone from work. We’d exchanged a few “hellos” here and there. But never anything serious. His family was there, but they weren’t crying.
The only funeral I remember going to was the one for Jessie’s mom. My dad drove me there (I didn’t have my license yet) and he sat in the parking lot when I went inside. But actually… it wasn’t really a funeral I guess. It was the visitation. P.s. just noticed that the word “funeral” has the word “fun” in it. I’m probably very behind on that. Anyways, it wasn’t a very “fun” experience.
i have never been in a funeral. and i dont want to. i dont know how to act in a funeral. and i dont want to learn about it. the only funeral i dream about is mine. and there are not so many people there.
to celebrate the death of one and the rebirth of themselves into an eternal spiritual life. people cry too much.
Funerals. They suck ass. Do you think I could stand another one? The way I’m already fucked up inside? I’ve only attended one funeral; and it was my grandfather’s on my mother’s side. I didn’t even know him. I was wearing a pair of blue jeans, black Ruxton Towers t-shirt, and black flip flops. I didn’t even cry. Is there something wrong with me? Why didn’t I cry?
sad tears death victory sting Lord heaven hell loss graduation see no more love lost can’t see you anymore black hymns missing you missing them time heals feel better but still miss you eternity when
Her hair is dying embers. Soft, pink roll of flesh over a goddess’ frame. Talon nails clutch June so tight it bleeds. She enters the small, dimly lit room. They are waiting to take her into the next room where a porcelain tub runs water unfit for thirst. Spiders and the roaches bow low before their queen. Red pumps crack the ancient sill and she takes hold of the lamp neck. Through the webby window out onto the shingles. Who has the upper hand at a table of dogs? Chimney spires, mutant giants. Take away an angels wings. Red shoes, she’s got red shoes and she’s ready to take a walk.
graves and despair voices from the ground rise up like owls into the night sky to the unending shining bright we’ll carry on we’ll carry on and though all hope is gone the moss grows over your name on the cold stone goodnight my darling
Sadness,
sad moments about to part with a person that you loved. People find them always so sad yet I laugh. I seem to be disrespectful but in reality thats just my way of showing that I care. I dont really know how to react in such situations. To be honest I kinda like them because you always find people that you havent seen in a very long time. I guess its like a reunion for those who are still here on earth. Its not a good bye its more like a see you later. We will all see each other at some point and then we will meet once again to talk and sing and dance like we once did. I dont really think death is that bad at all so funerals are really more selfish things. It is US wanting that departed person to be here while they may be in a much better place. WE are the ones that cant let go. The dead person no longer thinks if they want to be dead or alive. Besides earth is already hellish enough. You can’t really encounter much worse things in the other life, if there is one. Maybe there isnt and thats fine too. We cant live forever, it’s not healthy. What would you do when you can no longer do things, when you cant see and cant walk and cant talk properly. How about when you cant even remember things as well as you used to. Thats just sad. It must be frustrating. I dont know what I would do if that happened to me. I would probably want to die then. If I can no longer do anything then whats the point. We are alive to do things, to help and to live but when you no longer can do any of those its like you are overliving.
There is a casket in the front. Open. I see myself, younger, with my eyes closed and arms crossed. A funeral director in a suit standing by. Legs spread out and his arms crossed too, why is he wearing sunglasses?
My last change to say farewell – and the only occasion when everyone actually know how to dress.
Well, I have to go. Arriving I realised I didn’t have my cigarettes and start freaking out. My friend died of lung cancer and I was dying for a cigarette.
He stood back from the group of people that had gathered around the gash in the ground. Watching in delight as the dark high shine box was lowered into the ground. Grinning, he made his way back to his car, and then to his home, so he could brag. So he could say “I did that. I killed that man.”
I wouldn’t want you to come. Go do something fun. I don’t want to go to yours. Won’t wear black and cry- will climb a tree and remember you.
I stared straight ahead, not sure what to do. I should be crying, I knew that. I should be outwardly mourning the loss, and yet I could not summon any tears. It was as if grief had already drowned me inside, leaving me waterless outside.
Just Friday we farewelled her. I was thinking I’d go and offer her a session, and I heard that she had died. The funeral, was a time to hear about the parts of her life I knew nothing of. I didn’t know she was a feminist.
The rain drops went pitter, patter, pitter, patter as they harshly hit the tent where the burial was taking place at the funeral. A funeral isn’t pleasant, it isn’t fun, especially for loved ones. But the sun came out, revealing where the dead who had faith in God lie-Heaven.
death is an opportunity
when one is born from the ashes of the old and outgrown
centered in traditions of nature
cycles grown old long before many began
eternal good mornings
it was just a day. not really a sad day. somebody died though. that shouldnt make it special. poeple die everyday. i just happened to know this poor sucker. i guess thats the shitty part of it all.
I webt to my grandmas funeral once. We all laughed in the hearse. She was probably my closest family member. A funny lady. I didnt understand why the put ashes in the ground. Where did the ashes come from? I was 8.
Depending on who you asked in the family, Melon-Belly had either been the country’s best rabbit or the world’s worst nuisance. So many carrots eaten, so many carrots dug up. But the whole Turner family had to agree she had been memorable. A funeral was the only fitting thing.
funeral. has the word fun in it. real, too, scrambled up. everybody fantasizes about their own funeral. reminds me of tuesdays with morrie. some people eulogize on facebook pages of people who have died. i don’t have much more to say.
I’ve been to a lot of funerals.. the worst one being my uncle scotts. Even though it was a memorial service. It was sad. I hate crying in public. and I hate seeing others do it. God damn funerals are sad. they’re supposed to be celebration of life. but who wants to celebrate missing someone forever?
I was recently jus at one. It was my grandmothers. It was one of the saddest events of my life and will stick with me until I have one of my own. I learned a lot of life lessons and saw a lot of things that I will never forget. In the end funerals may seem bad but you learn a lot of good things.
Something so sad can be the only thing that keeps people together. 2 sides of a family may hate each other, but will come together for a death. They may not like each other, but they will at least respect each other for that night. How can death be the thing that makes us appreciate family, friends, and life? We should already know this.
I hate them all, they remind me of death and reality. I want out. I don’t want a funeral. That is all that I have to say or that ever needs to be said. No one should ever have to have a need for a funeral. There, I said more. Ta-da !
Funeral’s suck. What else am I supposed to say? I mean, who actually likes them. To be honest I don’t really understand them. We’re celebrating the life of someone else, why is it so sad? Are we saying they had a shitty life? Yes it’s horrible that they died, but who would want anyone to sap around about their death? I want my funeral to be fun. I want people to remember me that way, not upset.
I walked home from the funeral, not really sad at all, I mean I know funerals are supposed to make you sad but I just felt empty. Was their something wrong with me? Was I broken? Or maybe I was dying too?
sad hate regret love pain loss empty. Sometimes it’s waiting to happen, sometimes it should have never come. The tears, the conversations, the hugs, a time when people are finally brought together. But due to death? Is this what makes us remember how beautiful life is?
funeral always makes me fear God more, makes me want to go and pray so God would save our pour souls from hell, it makes me also very sad for the people whom which got left behind alone.
i hate going to funerals. they are so sad. ive been to 3 and they were the saddest things i have ever witnessed.
I do not like them. I do not want to think about them. Its a sad topic and I don’t have time to turn my smile into a frown.
So death comes and goes, and we weep in throes
when we remember; when we remember we’re supposed to remember.
The first funeral I ever attended was my grandpa’s, last May. It was strange – nothing like how I thought it would be. Almost like a regular church service. No photos, no viewing, nothing personal. Some verses and singing, and we left. Disappointing. There is no fun at a funeral.