Ice

The other day a friend asked me the age old question “would you rather die in fire or ice?” Since I was small I’ve always advocated for an icy death over a fiery one. The thought of lying in a bed made of snow, drifting away into a tranquil deep sleep seemed quite pleasant and serene. But, now that I am older and have experienced some of the harsh realities of this cruel world I’ve figured out nothing is ever that simple. Usually, in fire deaths the most immediate thing that happens is that the smoke of the fire reaches your lungs and knocks you out, your body is then left in an unconscious state as the flames cremate your entire being. Whereas ice deaths make you linger, and they feel as if they last an eternity. The great irony behind dying in ice is that you feel like you’re burning to death from the inside out. I like the idea of how fire can perish your entire being into ash. The thought of my physical self turning into nothing, and given right back to nature is much more comforting than the thought of being mummified in an icy tomb. I believe in leaving the world exactly the same way we came in… as nothing.