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Euthanasia – Right to Die

  • January 6, 2021
  • 4 minute read
Euthanasia – Right To Die
Euthanasia – Right To Die

Euthanasia. A word, that not many know about. And those who do, do not fully grasp it.

The dictionary meaning [*] says:

Euthanasia: The practice of intentionally and painlessly killing a human being or animal.

This does justice to the word, but just to some extent.

To me, Euthanasia is not merely a word.

It’s a concept.

A concept is hard to understand till you’ve felt what I’ve felt for most of my life. A concept is easy to misinterpret if you haven’t seen your true self. A concept is hard to fathom until you can see that there’s life in death.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not the one for reincarnation.

By life in death, I mean freedom. Being trapped in a meat suit is when you really get to know yourself.

When we have the freedom to move about, we all seem so humane. Moving around diverts our attention from the devil we all have inside of us.

But when you’re trapped in your mind for as long as I have been, you get to know the real you… You won’t like the real you.

Sometimes I see my reflection in the mirror. That is when somebody “helps” me to a mirror.

“Help”.

To put it in my context, I’m dragged to the mirror. It’s not that I don’t like what I see. The world says the mirror shows your true self.

Hah! Ask me.

The mirror is just as superficial as the world. It shows the scars on my face, yes. It reflects my inability to move, yes. But it shows me as I was, not as I am. On the surface, I’m still the same.

Beneath, I’m a changed human. Not sure if the being inside me can qualify as human anymore. This is precisely the reason I want euthanasia.

Again, don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate myself. Humans can not hate themselves. The source code is written that way. If I could move, I would unleash the demon. But I can’t.

The frustration pent up inside drives to the point of death. But I cannot die. Not on my own. This is why I want somebody to lay me to rest.

And it is for the greater good; for if I could ever move I don’t think the good will be able to bear me. I want finality, totality. Only death can provide me relief. In death, there is finality.

I used to promote Right To Life. Right to life, what a joke. This is life? This? Being stuck in a vegetative state?

I would never have thought my dear Right to Life would come down crashing on me so hard. The world needs a prophet. For me, the world begins and ends with me.

So, I’m not wrong when I say the world needs a prophet, who promotes the Right To Death.

If we have the freedom to choose our way of life, why are we kept so blatantly forbidden to choose the way we want to die?

Or to choose when do we want to die, to choose where do we want to die. No, I’m not suicidal. Suicide is cowardice.

So how is my plea of euthanasia any different from a self-righteous suicide, you ask?

The simple fact that I cannot end my life myself. If I had the ability to end my life, If I could lift the knife and slit my throat or climb a high building to jump off, If I could move even to be able to do it, I would never do it.

But I cannot move. If I was the master of my brain, if I could command my limbs to move, I would never want to end my life. Right now, I don’t even have control over my death. Perhaps that has made me into what I am now.

I’m not a believer. I don’t believe in God.

But it’s ironic.

The bible talks of Jesus. The bible talks of the good. The bible talks of the antichrist and the bible talks of how the antichrist is bounded in hell.

I’m not Jesus, for sure. Can I be the anti-christ? Being bound in my own body? This is my idea of hell. This is my private purgatory.

Have you ever felt searing white pain but feel unable to do anything about it?

It’s the feeling you get when you see a red hot iron bar approaching the eyeball ever so slowly. It’s not the pain that kills. It’s the anticipation.

You don’t know the pain, what you know is that it won’t be worse than what you’re feeling. You know once you feel it, it will be over very soon.

Give me those 5 seconds of excruciating physical pain over the ceaseless mental torture and I will die a happy man.

It will be an act of kindness on the part of whoever is killing me.

To kill is to free. To free is to give life.

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The posts have been written & produced by Staff Writers consisting of gossipers, tale-tellers, nerds, and newsmongers. Would love to hear your ideas, suggestions, and feedback. Feel free to connect with us.

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