Earlier today, I was exercising down at the basement (it's the only place where I can do it that has enough space). And I was just about to finish when all of a sudden the fire alarm went off. Now I didn't know what to do. I was on a wheelchair and the only way out was through the elevator and the buttons weren't working. I knew that there was a guard up in the entrance so I started yelling (good thing I decided to stay in the first level today).He came down and told me that they're not sure yet what's happening but if there really was a problem they'd come down and get me right away.
Okay so that wasn't exactly scary but it was sure interesting. I did smell smoke when I tried to see if I could just drag my ass all the way up the stairs in the emergency fire exit. But I knew that fire burns upward and that I wasn't in any real immediate danger.
I started thinking though: What if this was a real fire and I died right now? Would I regret anything? Sure, maybe a few things here and there but I know that I couldn't really get mad about dying this way. I mean, I am on a wheelchair for a good reason. All the choices I have made to set myself up into this situation were so that I could live a life better than what was intended for me naturally. Sure, I may not have had a boyfriend but most of that is my fault and the rest are just accidents.
What about heaven and hell? Well, I made it pretty clear to myself that I don't really want to go to heaven. My dad once said that in heaven, there will only be one love recognized and that's the love between you and God. There will be no such thing as mothers, sons, fathers, husbands or wives in heaven, just God and his children. And I personally think that that's selfish and unless anyone could say that what I just said is wrong, then I'd rather let God make me guilty, show me where I had gone wrong, and stop my existence completely. I don't believe in hell, just not existing ever. If God were to punish me for my sins, it would not last forever. He is, after all, a just God.
So there, I think I'm not afraid of death, just dying. I don't want to live through me being burnt alive. That's horrible. But I think I could handle whatever comes after that.
i-li-za-rov (i lē zä ruv) n.
>> The surgery that Vincent undergoes to increase his height in the movie Gattaca. It's named after the Russian doctor who invented it 40 years ago to treat dwarfism. This painful operation adds length by allowing new bone to grow in the gap left by gradually seperating ends of the broken bone. The patient's shinbones are cut in two, a brace is applied and metal pins would pull apart the bones a millimetre each day. Risks include feet permanently turned at odd angles, twisted legs, and weakened bones that break again and again.
>> What I did in June of 2005. I tell people it's either a rock climbing and/or car accident.
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