Today is the day I died.

Or will.

It feels like I already have, though I'm still here, with it. At least, I think I am. As none of us actually knows what death is, this could be the afterlife. Heaven or Hell, or both, or neither. I wonder if they exist only if you believe in them. A bit like unicorns. Kids see unicorns and fairies everywhere, but their innocence allows them to believe in so much more than us grown-ups. Our innocence is stripped away from us by the years, which hold a scalpel to flay the virtue from our souls like flesh from a bone.

Wow, dying has really made me a cynic, hasn't it? Was I always this miserable? I hope not, but it's becoming difficult to remember. Maybe I was and it's less cynicism and more realism.

But, anywho. Perhaps an after is only there if you really, truly, eyes squeezed shut and cross all your fingers believe in it. Otherwise, the fuse blows and darkness reigns, except you are no longer there to see it. See darkness? Is that a thing? Do we see it, or can we only see if there's light and, if not, we're only aware?

Wow, again. This dying lark sucks like a bad blowjob.

If there were such a thing.

So, dying or died. Whichever I'm in the process of, today is the day. Bonfire night. I've gone out in a blaze of sparkly effervescence and cheers.

Or would have if I hadn't been stuck in a long line of cars waiting for a broken down van to be moved off the road. As such, I can hear the explosions and see the flashes of colour in the distance. None of it is there to celebrate my passing. None of it even notices me. Nor do those around me, sitting in their cars before and after mine. I can hear the thud-thud-thud of music from one of them. It feels as if it is pushing me down into my seat, a weight on my chest. But, really, that weight is in my chest as my heart forgets it's supposed to beat. It tried a few times, making sputtering attempts to continue working, but ultimately failed.

Perhaps it was actually trying to join in with the fireworks. That would have been something.

Death isn't meant to be quiet. It's not supposed to be invisible. It should be an event. An experience, for the deceased and those around them. Granted, for the living, it's not necessarily pleasant, though it happens to everyone, so I'm surprised it's still a surprise to many. It shouldn't happen in the dark, in traffic. That's a waste. It's an insult to life.

It's typical for me. I never get what I want, so I haven't seen a unicorn and don't believe in an afterlife.

My brother died of a heart attack in his sleep. Maybe it happening when no one is there bear witness is in our genes. Cardiac issues can be genetic, so maybe this can be too.

Today. Mark it on your calendars. Raise a glass. Drink a toast. Do something to say you've noticed. A posh whiskey no one has heard of. Some raspberry and white chocolate cake. A moment's thought.

Just...

Anything.

They, the 'They with a capital T and faceless faces, say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. Firstly, I think 'faceless faces' is an oxymoron, but you'd have to be a moron not to know what I mean. Secondly, my life isn't flashing. It's fading, along with me. I'm forgetting it. Is it, I wonder, actually fading from having ever been? Am I? Once I'm gone, am I gone?

So, today is the day I... .......