Paradise City
At the risk of sounding entirely morbid and bleak, which seems unavoidable considering I'm bringing up that frightening and much tabooed subject: death.
I'm not some Goth-rocker outsider, framed in sorrow and confusion. I'm your average guy, your regular Joe, just thinking about everyday existentialism.
Religiously, I am not tied to a God; I am not especially spiritual, or if I am I haven't been enlightened to it yet. So, for me, this is it. I can only think of the next step in a hopeful way, that there might be some kind of paradise waiting at the end of it all. Where I get to watch all my favorite films back-to-back and listen to my top ten albums and eat some darn fine cuisine. Or maybe I don't wish for anything like that at all. Maybe I wish for absolute peace and quiet.
You know, honestly, the only thing that saddens me about dying is leaving people behind and worrying about them. Okay, I have no children, but one day I hope to and I hope to have a house and a car and a life that can wrap them up. This sounds stupid for a guy doesn't it. Alright, I'll go back to talking about what I think heaven might be like. Once I've invested in life insurance for me and my family. No, but seriously, a man wonders...
What do I have in my worldly possessions I need to protect for others? Cos that's what it is right - a gift. I worry, I do. Today, this week and this month, my worries have been on this: what do I leave behind.
I looked at what kind of policies I could take out. I went online and browsed this Asda Finance website ( there are a few, but this was helpfully clear) and collected all this information. I haven't parted with my money yet, I just wanted to shop around and saw what kind of life insurance a guy like me could get. It was Asda Finance and checked the American Income Life website to grasp where my income and fortune's going to go (when I make it of course).
This blog has got be the most dramatic one yet. I just wanted to know, when life takes you away, what can you leave as a gift, which is a lot less morbid than you might think, if you think about it, like I do.