It's really weird looking at a dead body. I'm aware that this sounds morbid, but I went to my great uncle's funeral today, and it was really weird. I didn't cry, because I don't cry much. (Or, at least I try not to.) When you look at the person in the casket, your eyes jump, and you think that they're still breathing,even though they aren't. You keep expecting them to hop out of the casket and say, "Ha ha! I got you! I'm not really dead!" and you wanna touch them to make sure that it's not a trick. He had a bunch of cousins that all looked like him, so naturally I was like, "Holy Jesus! He's over there!" It was weird; it looked like he had a lot of clones. I felt guilty that I didn't cry, but aren't funerals sorta supposed to be happy? He's in a better place now, so why should I be crying? I had to wear a dress, and I threw on my pinstripe jacket (they don't call me Pinstripes for nothin'!) and I kinda resembled Morticia (without the jacket, that is). Well, I'm going to miss him, but mourning over him isn't what I'm going to do; I'm going to celebrate his new spot of happiness wherever he is. Later days, yo! | |
