on Friday I started choking on some soda and I was literally afeared for my life and I could not breathe and I legit thought I was gonna die and I was on the ground and tears were coming off my face and I kept trying to shout help and my friends were just like “haha, Maureen, we’re not buying it” AND I WAS LIKE, SHIT SO THIS IS HOW I DIE, I NEED THE HEIMLICH MANEUVER GUYS SHIT” 

but they just stood there watching a PBS show about a puppet chicken and I guess you could say I’m a living epitome of The Boy Who Cried Wolf except it was more like “The Girl Who Cried Puppet Chicken”.

When you really think about it, death is such a horrifying concept. I think people joke about death so much because it’s the only way to deal with its terrifying reality. Like when people make jokes about their insecurities because it’s their only way to cope with the pain of knowing it’s there. That’s why people make morbid jokes so much, because it’s such a petrifying concept to completely grasp. That you won’t be on this earth anymore, once you’re gone; that’s it, there’s no turning back, you’ll never walk this earth again. Your chances are up. It’s really scary. And you don’t know what’s out there, not the slightest clue, you don’t know where you’re going, up, down, purgatory; it’s a mystery, you’re leaving the only thing you’ve ever known. Imagine trying to explain the concept of death to someone who’d never heard of it, they’d be so mortally terrified. Death is a strange, accepted, terrifying thing. 

This is what my six-year-old sister said when she saw them die.