Suicide in the village

Dylan.t

Dylan.t

Active Member
Tragically this morning a local man in our village hanged himself in a rice storage barn. My wife is friendly with his wife and was naturally a bit upset. However, later this afternoon a couple of the villagers called in on us, to ask if we wanted to quickly come with them to view the hanging body as the police were about to cut him down.
My wife politely refused and translated for me after they had left. - Weird.
 
Unfortunetly you will experience many weird things here, after a decade I still occasionally get a few surprises.


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It was explained to me by my local Abbott and friend that, when you view death. What does it mean?
We will go on living. And what does that mean?
They are both the way of things, But how to understand two such different states?
Firstly it serves to remind you nothing is permanent and to remember the two states. You are alive and viewing the latter will make you feel more alive for it.
Weird ,well yes. Welcome to another culture.
RIP to the poor unfortunate gentleman that could see no further in this life and condolence to his family.
 
Aged around 8 years, I woke up suddenly one night having dreamed that I was dying. No one else was awake, so I thought about it for a while. My grandfather had tried to explain infinity to me a few days earlier, and I still struggled to grasp something that had neither a beginning nor an end. His wife - my grandmother - had a severe case of religion. The concept of the hereafter was her straw to clutch in their non-too-affluent Welsh lifestyle. Heaven and infinity seemed to me to be at odds with each other as I couldn't accept that only if I was a good boy could I aspire to Heaven forever. The only alternative was Hell, and every description of the latter filled me with dread (ever since I'd left my kiddy tricycle on the pavement for a neighbour to fall over, with bloody consequences for him - my path to Hell seemed defined.)

A few minutes later, I'd argued with myself that although my grandpa was probably right about infinity, my gran couldn't possibly be right about Heaven and Hell, especially as she had never been to either of them. So, I saw dying as being the full stop at the end of my life sentence. I still do.

Nevertheless, R.I.P. the troubled man from Dylan's village.
 
It is apparently. I almost went there once, by taking the M62 east from Manchester.... :fearscream::fearscream::fearscream:
 
A farang monk in Thailand used to tell me that he liked meditating beside a recently dead corpse. He also used to meditate inside the crematorium, where the smell of death was strong. His fellow monks used to say to him, "Baking today?"
 
I've been to Hell; it's a railway junction in Norway, rather like Crewe.

"This is hell, nor are we out of it." (Marlowe)
 
Merlin said:
Aged around 8 years, I woke up suddenly one night having dreamed that I was dying. No one else was awake, so I thought about it for a while. My grandfather had tried to explain infinity to me a few days earlier, and I still struggled to grasp something that had neither a beginning nor an end. His wife - my grandmother - had a severe case of religion. The concept of the hereafter was her straw to clutch in their non-too-affluent Welsh lifestyle. Heaven and infinity seemed to me to be at odds with each other as I couldn't accept that only if I was a good boy could I aspire to Heaven forever. The only alternative was Hell, and every description of the latter filled me with dread (ever since I'd left my kiddy tricycle on the pavement for a neighbour to fall over, with bloody consequences for him - my path to Hell seemed defined.)

A few minutes later, I'd argued with myself that although my grandpa was probably right about infinity, my gran couldn't possibly be right about Heaven and Hell, especially as she had never been to either of them. So, I saw dying as being the full stop at the end of my life sentence. I still do.

Nevertheless, R.I.P. the troubled man from Dylan's village.
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I feel the same way. At the ripe old age of eight, I told my mum that I'm no longer going to Sunday School as I don't believe anything that I couldn't see with my own eyes. Nobody or nothing has convinced me otherwise in the 51 years since then.


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Yorky said:
I've seen many things with my own eyes that I still don't believe (Port Harcourt for one). I think my old mum, bless her, saw "The Sound of Music" 15 times at least!
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I think I was blackmailed with the gift of an Airfix kit but resisted all future Xmas viewings on the google-box.


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