My Future as Manure/Why I am Afraid of the Edwards Valencia 12 IMAX

If you asked my 7-year-old self what the afterlife was like I would say it was like the shiny black floor of the local movie theatre, empty and polished and always reflecting. I pictured God as a fluid entity made of the pink and blue light from the glowing neon lights above the tile. I was a weird kid.

Now, I'm afraid to imagine an afterlife. I'm afraid to die. I took an online class at the local community college called "Death and Dying" because I thought it would make me less afraid of death, but instead it infected me with a constant awareness of my own mortality. We learned about mourning and loss, we talked about funerals and how much they cost (too much) and we read Tuesdays with Morrie. We learned that no one ever truly thinks that they themselves will die until it happens. We learned about the things they do with bodies after death, like cremation and embalming and burial and Donating Yourself to Science. We talked about assisted suicide in a level of detail that I never knew how much I didn't need in my life.

The only upside to the class is that I learned what I want to be when I die-- composted. They freeze dry your body and your bones crumble and they bury you in the dirt and plant something; you become human manure. I think that this makes me feel the most assured, that after I die I can give my body to the earth and my life will go to something else. Maybe I'd grow oranges or something and people would eat vitamin C that used to be mine, which is pretty cool and horrifying.

I don't know if I believe in God anymore. I know that some part of me believes in a sort of life after death, feeling someone's presence and love after they are gone. One of my favorite things to ask people is if they've ever seen a ghost because I think that's a way to get really cool stories, and also because it's surprising to me to find out how many people truly believe they've experienced something supernatural. It makes me want to believe in something more. I tend to repress thoughts of death, knowing too well the rabbit hole of paralyzing existantial terror I am quick to fall into, but to this day I can't attend a screening of Jurassic World 2 without looking at the tile and feeling, just for a second, the endless abyss of the afterlife. In my opinion, it smells a lot like popcorn.