I Hate Goodbyes.

Death.

The sound of the word on my tongue is almost as hard and as cold as it looks when I see it written.

No one is ever prepared for it, no matter how long you've waited, or how many times you've seen it. I think after the general death of a loved person, I'm through. You know? I don't need a verification, I don't need a traditional ceremonious ritual that's supposed to bring "closure".
My closure comes gradually.
My closure comes from within myself.

In fact, things that are often supposed to bring "closure", often gives me nothing more than this bad-tasting residue...

I hate funerals.
And I don't mean hate them like a normal person is obliged to hate funerals...

I'm talking this deep, demented loathing...that climbs up from the pit of my stomach and chokes me.

There is nothing quite so pretentious as a funeral.
I mean traditional southern funerals, you know?
You have old ladies with their rosaries and their big ugly hats that go and sit down next to so-and-so with big fake smiles and gossip about so-and-so's unwed pregnant granddaughter being hauled up in a convent somewhere until the illegitimate offspring is born.
Mind you...this is being spoken of in the same room where your beloved dead relative's body is chillaxing in the coffin.

Don't people understand that it's basically the rudest thing in the world to gossip in a funeral home?!

You think that after living seasonally for a couple of decades and bitching at your kids for not having basic table etiquette, you'd be able to hold your silence in the presence of the dead--you dumb fuck.

And then, oh, and then...We must pray.

Oh yes, let's pray.
Let's pray for this person laying here without a pulse.
Let's pray that your husband doesn't find out you're screwing the family attorney.
Let's pray that you turned off the stove before you left the house.
Let's pray, let's pray, let's pray...

You know what?
Instead of going on and on all this tripe about prayers and peace and eternal happiness and yadda yadda yadda...can't we just look at each other with frank distaste and say

"This fucking sucks."

It does.
It fucking sucks.
There's no better way to word it in my opinion.

I think I'm going to try that one day, seriously.
Seriously.
When everyone is praying for the eternal beautification of this person's soul...I just want to stand up and say "can I say something for a moment"... go right up to the pulpit...look out into the congregation...Raise my head with this frank and forthright look upon my brow, and say

"This fucking sucks."


Amen.