i constantly think about death. i wonder what it would feel like to be dead, and the different ways i might go. when ecstatic, it seems good to die at the height of one’s joy. when in the dumps, death seems a release. this is a bit of an improvement, actually…i used to wonder what it would be like if various people in my life were to die. i did not wish them dead, just wondered how i would feel if they did.
morbid, certainly, and somehow…strange.
then i read ‘daytripper’. the series of 10 stories follows the various deaths of Bras de Oliva Domingos, at various stages/ages in his life (heh). the stories range from the mystical to the innocent to the hopeful to the gritty. in quite a few of them Bras is an obituarist, and each of the stories ends with a short obit. the series is beautifully drawn+coloured, and complements the text very well.
i feel less strange now.