The wind is blowing and a cold breeze continues to tickle the back of my neck as i sit and ponder the wonders of today. While skies are blue and few clouds mare the beauty of the sky, i wonder what life is like on the other side.
Citizens from all religions are now lining up to give me a description of what awaits me in the after life, while scientists are grabbing their illustrated books of the stars.
But i want none of it. As a true child of the post-modern generation i want to experience it. There is no account that is worth anything unless it is experienced. Determining if it is good or bad, what its merits are and how it will react to me all hinge on my experiences.
I can hear the theologians beginning to mumble. The scientists can't find a measurement for this. Each discredits.
and i am left alone to wonder.
2 comments:
how many people would actually refer to themselves as post-modern and knew what it meant? (please ignore the falacies in the last sentence for the moment, I just thought it was appropriate due to your use of the personal pronoun, I)
There's a song that says:
I'm so postmodern that I just don't talk any more/I wear different coloured t-shirts according to my mood/I'm so postmodern that I work from home as a surf lifesaving consumer hotline/I'm so postmodern all my clothes are made out of sleeping bags/I don't need pockets, I'm a pocket myself...
But that probably has nothing to do with it!
Suffice to say the hereafter probably doesn't involve flaming hellfire.
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