Hindsight

"Hindsight..."

You know the way that old saying goes, well, it's so much more potent when you're dead. Seriously, you will never know how true it is until after it's too late--and I mean that on every possible scale imaginable. And, yes, I know you humans can imagine a lot. I know I could when I was still--alive.

But that was... well, time doesn't matter the same now as it did while I still drew breath. It won't matter the same for you either.

You see, while there's a certain appeal in the idea of an afterlife to those still alive, not many really consider "life after death." Now some do--don't get me wrong--there are some that are very in tune to what comes next or at least what they think comes next. There are also those that are fascinated by the idea of the afterlife and have absolutely no clue or real belief in it because their fascination is the same as one holds for a hobby. It fills the time--the time that so quickly slips through their fingers.

But the fantasizing and speculation, even the dramatization of what may come, most often shows how much none of you really has any idea of what to expect. The closest idea anyone can ever hope to get before their death is through the hints that come from and through the more religious belief systems that exist. All those following some sort of belief have a vague impression of what to expect, but not one of them can really speak to knowing what it is like.

Which is why I paid so little attention in life to such writings. It was pure speculation--or so I thought.

Now, you might be thinking that my account is also pure speculation. And I don't blame you. I was one of those that believed I had to go through or experience something on my own before I would even consider it to be true. Belief in the afterlife was not top on my priority list to explore especially since it's a one way trip and--according to most--just an end.

But that's just not true. It's not a one and done deal. There's no black hole at the end with a blissful unconsciousness. There's also no coming back after death, but there is an existence of sorts--a "life after death" does exist. It just doesn't include coming back in a physical form.

There's also no maybe if I'm good enough I'll get the chance to do something over. And reincarnation, well, let's just say I have not had the pleasure to experience that. I don't know that I ever will because this whole life after death thing--this spiritual existence--is not like all the stories.

Contrary to the belief of some, there's no communing with the other side or being able to make your presence known. Sure, there are some angels--and definitely demons--that pose as the spirits who have "gone over," but they're just messing with you all. We, spirits of the departed, don't get to interact with you living souls once we're gone. I'm actually expecting that this account will start to fade before I get to express all these thoughts and recollections.

Oh yeah, while we're on that topic; I'm not actually writing any of this down because--as I said--I can't actually move or touch anything. So, if you ever see or hear any of these thoughts, I can't tell you how that's possible. I'm trying really hard to consciously convey my thoughts in a way that will break from the prison I'm now in, but the outcome may be all for naught.

The sad truth is that as a spirit I can't speak to anyone or even interact with other spirits. Certainly I can sense them. I can be aware of others sharing my fate--even my space--but I'm not permitted to exist with them. I mean, you would think it would be possible since we're technically on the same level as all dead people excluded from paradise, but nope. We exist without existing together. We're all alone here--every single one of us.

It's like a vacuum. It's just me and myself and I. But that's not the worst part. The worst part is that I can still see all of you. I can still venture through spaces I used to live and work and inhabit, but I can't do a thing. No touching, no speaking, no creating chills as I move through walls or living bodies. I can't even influence the dog no matter how hard I try, so no one knows I'm ever there, not even the more sensitive types. I'm all alone. Cast out and cast aside.

Maybe you recognize those words. I think they were in one of those religious books I ignored while alive. "Absolute separation" is how I think it was described in one of the texts and that's a pretty accurate description. Removed from everything and everyone , barred from all interaction, yet left to roam it all.

Sounds depressing doesn't it? Well, this is like the ultimate bout of depression that hangs around your neck and forever pulls you down. It's the sinking feeling in the pit of your empty stomach that nothing can satisfy or fill. Being a spirit--contrary to the belief of some--is not just an in between space. It's the hell for those that can't get into heaven.

I know, I know, for some of you this might sound nice. Total and complete existence without anyone else to disturb you--ever. I thought it sounded nice too, but here's the real truth. There's no cell phones to keep your mind occupied. There's no music to drown out your thoughts when they become too much. And--by the way--all you have are the thoughts in your head. You can't share them with anyone else. You can't impart them to another. You go on thinking and rethinking and being driven mad by all the recalculations you could have made while alive...

But you're alone... so very alone.

That's what the afterlife looks like for those not given the keys to the pearly gates. It's the essence of being in a sound proof room. You can't escape it. You can't interact with others or distract yourself. You get used to people not seeing you and hearing you--I mean, sort of--but the eternal absence of all the senses is not easy to deal with.

There's no smells. There's no noise of any kind. That music shop you think you'll be able to hangout in after you die won't know you're there and you won't get the chance to enjoy any of the tunes they play even if you do decide to camp out there. Certainly you can see others speak and enjoy themselves--and maybe you can read lips--but you don't actually hear their words or laughter. You can't touch so you can't feel. And there is no eating--although I don't mind losing that one as much as I do the others.

Gray, tasteless, drab, quiet--intensely quiet, so much so that your thoughts are like shouts in your own head--that's what my world is now. It's that and the ever present ache of desire. It's that longing to be seen and heard--to be noticed. If one person--any person--could just recognizes that you're still there, that some part of your soul still exists, it would make all the difference. The knowing that you have worth in the eyes of another is what you spend each day longing for. But all you're left with here is the ache of rejection.

Then there's the ache that comes from all that's holy and good turning away until you are no longer seen. You feel lost beyond just sight and thought. It is such a deep, dark, and intense solitude that it makes you want to die again so that you can start over. It makes you wish for the possibility of reincarnation just so you can touch and be touched again.

But the reality is that it will always be this way. It will never change.

For the rest of eternity--as I understand it--I'll be forced to exist in this unknown state. I will dwell with nothing more than my own thoughts and losses. Every happy memory I had has now faded away. It's only the grief, the pain, the tormenting knowledge that I missed out on something so great that consumes me.

And I will always be hounded by my regrets and failures. I will never rest because of it. This is my life now--my existence--the choice I made before I left the living. I can change nothing but I will forever wish I could.