Death is always something that has fascinated me, and terrified me, in roughly equal proportions. Much like my seeming inability to cry, and I'm sure that, far in the future, when I die of some drug/alcohol/exercise overdose, one will follow the other closely. But without poking the large and scary figure standing behind everyone, y'know, the guy with the pointy stick and the dress, I would like to think that my death will not happen for a long time. Or at least until I finish university, because then what will my parents say at my funeral, apart from "He wasted my money in his final days"? And no one wants to hear that. I mean, it's pretty demoralising for all involved.
Like any human being, you would think that I would have no idea what comes after death, but after much thought and musing, I can honestly say that to find the answer, you must first consider cereal. Before you become disgusted, revolted and start to erect an effigy of me, to burn in the name of your chose deity, consider the mystery that is cereal. Cereal is almost a completely new idea. It came out of nowhere. In the 19th century, some person, named after a make of cereal, decided that if he ground up some things and added some noxious chemicals, and then milk, he could make a delicious breakfast snack. Where did he get this idea? It could only have been divine intervention. Which in turn shows the existance of a God of some sorts, which in turn, means heaven. I may be jumping the gun on this one. I don't want to be a fanatic. I am not Ms. Carmody, I cannot stress that enough.
Anyhoo, I remain pretty uncertain as to what happens after life. I am also quite uncertain towards the existance of God. And not knowing both of those things makes me quite happy.