Bathroom Monologue: The Won’t

"This religion is a little hard to tell from the more popular ones. They possess a peculiar afterlife. Right? Whereas the popular ones say you cease to exist upon death, these folks have disproved that. They say you will continue to be, and have provided the evidence of a hundred corpses. These deceased people are plainly still in existence, simply not doing anything. The body, the brain, all in tact, while the individual does nothing. You continue to be, but you won’t. You won’t run. You won’t participate in orgies. You won’t tell that joke the way no one else can. Bits of you will do things. Bits of you are already rotting, and some will be eaten by maggots or plants or burned in cremation. One day the world may be blown up and bits of you will float around as cosmic silt, or be sucked into a star and become part of a distant light. You won’t do that. Bits of you will. You have bits of others in you right now: the chicken you had for lunch, and flakes of dandruff from my scalp that you’ve inhaled. I’m not climbing into your nostrils; bits of me are. I won’t, you see. Quite elegant. The locals either see it as sublime, or as sort of a dodge. Impossible to display, you know, that some essential you doesn’t go, that you don’t go do something without all the present bits of you that we’re presently regarding. It'll be some time before we know for certain about that - or, we won't."