You live once, after which you go to heaven or hell depending on your merits. Or if you embrace a certain religion, you have a one way ticket to their so-called heaven.
This question of death and life after it was asked many a times over my entire lifetime. Weird as you may think, but it has plagued me even when I was a kid.
A kid of many whys, I would always look at things/scenes/stories and start pondering why certain things happened or why people do what they do. So I usually field my whys to the adults whom at that time I thought would always have solutions and answers. Initially, they took pleasure in feeding a kid's curiosity, but gradually, I started to become more of a pain in the neck when I started to push for more with my endless stream of queries. They will tell me "Gal you asked too much and talk too much."
Why can't I ask questions? That was my entitlement I thought. As a kid, you have lotsa whys lotsa questions burning in you. And adults are seemingly not even trying to listen to your questions. Hell do I feel unsatisfied and shortchanged at my conquest for knowledge.
Then as I grew, I started to question my existence. There's so much to life that I want to learn yet so hard to 拿捏. So do pardon me should I indulge into this mode of deep thinking.
Perhaps my mind and thoughts has become too complex for even myself to fathom that I'm slowly losing my identity and my ability to judge. The problem with me I come to notice of late is that I am unable to comprehend my emotions and feelings the moment they occur. The understanding normally comes after some time lapse, erm... hopefully.