A Meditation on Death

If you meditate on death long enough, he will seek you out. But, Death will not knock at your door, as you wish. He will not come in announced and have a cup of tea with you.

He will not calmly ask, "How are you doing today," casually as he crosses his legs while enjoying your recliner.

Death does not care about how you are doing. He doesn't give shit what you want of him, or how you expect him to be. He isn't your therapist, your daddy, or your friend.

Death is a fucking rapist.

He will creep in your window and he will fuck you up the ass. Hard Slowly draw his scythe across your throat and watch you bleed out, gleefully.

Death doesn't care that you have a family (everyone does, whether you talk to them or not).

Death doesn't care that you just thought up a cure for cancer. He'll take you quick, before you can share your knowledge with the world.

Death doesn't care if you're a president, a scientist or a fucking hobo eating shit out of the dumpster.

He doesn't care about you or respect you.

You know who death respects? The Queen of England. That cunt is 100 and going strong. But, eventually he will come for her too. Probably give her more respect then he gave Elvis.

Death fucked Elvis hard. Took him right on the fucking toilet. Told him he lived too fast and too hard and said, "Fuck you Elvis, you plagiaristic bastard."

And don't fucking shoulda, woulda could death. He's heard all your shit before. He sniggers as you plea with him.

Please give me a few more years?

Please give me one more sunset?

Please give me one more fucking orgasm?

Oh he'll give it to you. If he's feeling frisky. He give you one more orgasm, as the sunsets, on your 10th anniversary, that you shoulda spent with your wife, instead of your mistress.

OH! He'll fucking cum all over his robes at that one. Gives him a chub just plotting it out.

He knows how your poor wife will cry hysterically when she finds out. Giggle like a school boy when he thinks of the long-lasting shame he'll bring your family.

That shame will be life-long for them, but is only a blink in his long gaze. Death has seen Forever and looked that bitch in the eye.

Forever isn't the sweet love you carve into a desk when your 14. That twat is gnarled and haggard and her gaping vagina is filled with razor blades. She'll fuck you too. Forever will leave you a bleeding stump of your former self.

Only Death is brave enough to fuck her. But he has not escaped her seductions unscathed. He believed having Forever would be bliss.

He was dead fucking wrong.

Death will fuck you up the ass and hand you over to Forever. Forever is the true sadist in their relationship. You will get to be the dirty third in their ménage a trois.

Now just think about that for awhile.