still on a rainy evening at the cemetery...

burying the dead tradition. what tradition? do you really know when did a tradition of burying the dead came about? how it all started? who came up with the silly idea of digging a hole in the ground and putting the lifeless mound of flesh in it? maybe...it's all about the essence of parting ways. the more you don't see, the lesser it hurts. when is a dead...dead? is it when, somebody stops breathing? maybe, being dead, is when one stops believing...dreaming. silence here (in the cemetery) is but a noise within the chambers of yourself. we live...then we destroy. to cover up the destruction, we bury it. we can bury it in style...or just dump it there without any remorse. anyway, as long as it's buried, it will soon end up as particles of the earth so we can have more land...and much yummier food choices. how then would the dead be raised...given that it's already dead? would it be somewhat magical? would it come with wisp of smoke encircling the lifeless body and suddenly breathe again, with mystical musical arrangements at the background(just like in the movies right?!). isn't it a bit creepy, seeing the dead walk? of those who are faint hearted, what if it(they---the dead) suddenly talks to you? maybe...resurrection is when the dead starts believing and dreaming again, other than just breathing. maybe. just maybe. then being terrified of the dead walking is just pure silliness.

tonight, i am standing on this grave unnamed on a cold rain-drenched evening. a shovel on my muddy hands. i looked at her silently as she sleeps in serenity. hate to wake her up on an evening like this. with a smile, i hit her with the shovel...thrice or more. until she finally opened her eyes and look at me sleepily.

we looked at each other's eyes. she stood up and punched my face. i clenched my fist and punched her too. we punched each other 'til blood trickled from us both. she bore a bloody lips and i have a cut above my eyebrow and a shiner to boot. we looked at each others eyes and she smiled. apparently, satisfied at waking her up from her peaceful slumber beneath her muddy grave. i smiled at her relieved. i bent down and picked up my bag. i emptied it of all its contents, into the now vacant grave. i handed her another shovel. and we covered the hole (with my bag's former contents in it) with the soggy mound of earth. we flattened it in fashion and put an epitaph on it. we looked at each other again and smiled. carried the shovels and put our arms on our shoulders as we walked away from the grave, laughing. yeah... we miss each other so much.


                                              by the way... the epitaph read:

                                                 "came here to unpack
                                                             MYSELF
                                                          1996-2005."