eat or be eaten.

In my line of work I am forced to face the one thing I'd rather not; Death. The thought of it makes me nauseous and immediately I want to make a silent but swift retreat to a comfortable corner to simply be for awhile. It's an unsettling feeling you get the first time you go to register an ambulance and the EMT's round the corner with the undisguisable look that defeat gives only to see that they aren't pumping the bags and the patients is not moving. They call it the Shock Room. It's where the really bad off ones go. When they come in they are just some nameless person. We usually have no idea who they are. I've seen lots of corpses lately. An equally unsettling notion is when the coroner shows up to pick up the body. This not so much of a person's destination is no longer one decided on by free will. Not only that, they are bound for embalming, the ceremonial trading of your insides for expensive chemicals and other unknown goo. Bodies don't look any better freshly dead than they do at funerals. I'm almost sure they look worse. Especially when you've just witnessed this unknown's last breath and the color is already leaving their skin. Seeing these things makes me think of the people I've lost and if I were to die tomorrow what would I want my last wishes to be? Being buried turns me off completely. How weird that they doll you up just to throw dirt on you? And besides that I don't think there is a single person that has the occupation of Corpse Decorator that could get my eyeliner and blush right. My mascara is deserving of awards most days so naturally I don't want to put that in the hands of stranger that is probably a failed make up artist. She couldn't hack it with the live one's so she converted to a clientele that can't complain. Cremation also is not something I like the sound of. I don't think I'd like the smell firstly and I like to think that my spirit will be able to smell things. Secondly, I really don't think I'm too keen on the idea of sitting on some person I probably don't even really like all that much fireplace mantle next to pictures of Bingo the family Rat Terrier or something incredibly awkward in some ash holding vessel that is hideous and is not something I would ever have chosen to sit patiently in for the rest of....well, I guess whoevers mantle I'm sitting ons life. The whole thing seems inhumane. I think I'd rather somebody take me out on a boat by the Burmuda Triangle or some other obscure place and just push me off the side. Now it must be acknowledged that there is a good chance I'll be eaten here. Either that or I'll rot and become part of some strange clown fish tribal habitat or something equally as weird. It's eat or be eaten. I've been eating my whole life so I guess this one time I can be a tidbit more giving. I mean, it's my body. It's not as though I will really need it anymore.