It’s short, it’s pointless, but “Spirited Away” has me thinking about death.
Dying was a weird feeling. I was frozen in time, perfectly aware that I still existed, but unable to move any farther forward with my life. It was as if someone had taken a picture of me lying on my bedroom floor, and had somehow managed to trap me inside that photograph.
If I’m being honest I was a little disappointed. Twenty years of movies, books, and music had convinced me that dying was like falling asleep, and unless sleep is typically a perpetual state of strangulation, dying and falling asleep have nothing in common. Then again, I suppose very few of the characters that had described dying had also ingested a large bottle of sleeping pills only moments before, so I may have been doing it wrong.
Looking back I’m not really sure what I thought was going to happen. I think part of me was expecting for death to just wander into my room, and greet me as if I was expected. Maybe he’d hug me and tell me that all the pain was about to disappear. Maybe he wouldn’t say a word, and would simply motion me down a path with no real destination. Regardless, neither of those situations played out. I was very much alone with nothing but my drug addled mind to keep me company. That’s not true. I’m fairly certain that every now and then someone would walk into my room only to find me “asleep” on a beanbag. I’m only fairly certain as these people all appeared to be shadowy figures that vanished almost as soon as they appeared. Kinda crazy to think about. People were walking into my room, glancing at my dying body, then leaving as if everything was normal. Guess I put on a mask even in my sleep.