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I dont just go around killing chickens

Updated on August 24, 2016


Way way back in a time called five or six months ago, I slaughtered a chicken. Not my first one for sure, and totally not the last time. Was it fun? I don’t know he was just dinner. All I did was run my knife back and forth and back and forth until I got the head off and the thing leaked to death. I say thing because by that point it wasn’t a chicken. Just a chicken shaped lump of meat. It was his time. Not my will but God’s will. He is in a better place now. I don’t know what the afterlife looks like for chickens but he is for sure in that big barnyard in the sky. Delicious though. 10/10 would eat him again. So now don’t say anything as I segue right from that into human mortality. Everyone has dead people. Seems obvious but it freaking hurts when it’s your turn to put someone in the ground. You’d think we would have gotten used to it by now. Then again maybe it’s better not to get used to some things. Then there’s deciding what to say. You basically have the option of the classics, poetry, song lyrics, or the simple yet apt RIP. I like the classics. I like them because they are sort of empty. I mean you mean what you say but then you get a look from the person you’re telling them to and they can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. That’s okay though. The words are empty but they serve a purpose. When someone you know dies, accepting it is not something you’re in the mood for right at that moment. I’ve heard of people rewiring their brains just so they don’t have to deal. That’s why the classics are my go to; because when you’re comforting someone your job is sort of to get them to accept that the person is really gone. It’s a thankless task but someone has to do it. You have to be cruel to be kind. You can’t tell them to pretend the person is still alive, you can’t say the person is on a trip or just away, and you especially can’t tell them that it isn’t real or whatever. So you have to suck it up and tell them that the person is in a better place, that someday everyone’s number will be up, and that no one lives forever. I think that’s the ‘being strong’ part. The part where you have to get them to face up to what’s happening. So about the chickens thing, the oblique point I was trying to make is that we cut them down at their prime. That’s the way it should be though. Old animals are probably chewy and baby animals are delicious. I’ve had veal and lamb so I would know. But then again there’s us. Your prime is probably the worst time for you to go. Not that there’s a good time or whatever. but because we know there’s a stopping point most people want it to be as late as possible. It doesn’t ever work out like you want. There’s just some things you don’t get a say in. death is a rather ferocious negotiator and a grim reaper. So when it’s your turn to be the strong one, grit your teeth and convince them that its curtains for the person they loved. That they are really gone and that they are never ever coming back. If they hate you it’s okay because no good deed goes unpunished. Just do your job and shut up about the rest of it. As for the chickens, yes I slaughtered them but at least they died in my arms.


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