A monkey in a suit

   Ah, my old friend Death. There is no escaping my friend. He comes for everyone. He doesn't discriminate. He could careless about your sex, race, or what you believe. He has been hunting us all since our birth and sooner or later we all meet him. Honestly, if you think about it he is the most notorious serial killer that ever was. Now it's not personal from what I can see. He just is here to take life from those on his list. Like Santa, but he doesn't care if you were naughty or nice.

  Ah, everyone was dressed so nice. I hate dressing nice. It's like eating all your vegetables. I hate eating all my vegetables. I used to push my Brussels sprouts off the side of my plate when my mom wasn't looking. The dog would be ready under-the-table and inhale them up. No Brussels sprout ever touched the floor. The problem was he would then later have bad gas. So after many gassy evening I was found out and the game was up. I only ate all my vegetables when I was younger because my parents told me to. So once I became adult I stopped doing it, but that didn't last as I had to do it again because my doctor told me to. It's funny how life is a circle. Like how you start your life in diapers and you end your life in diapers again. Or how when you're a child you can't speak properly because your brain is still forming. Then when you get older towards the end, you can't speak properly because your brain is un-forming. As your mind becomes that of a child again. I'm not gonna lie part of me longs for the day when I can poop my pants again and someone else will clean it up. That is disgusting, but it's not untrue.

  So anyways I stand here a monkey in a suit. Standing over her casket. So here's the problem that lies right beside her. The problem is that while I love her, I can't cry for her. It's not the fact that I'm trying to be hard or be tough. This is in the fact that I don't have the ability to cry. I'm not saying never, but in times of need, I can't seem to get the tears up. And yes, I would consider this a time of need. 

  So I stand here with everyone else. All of them just crying away and not a teardrop on my face. I look like an a*****e. An a*****e in a suit. I've been to enough funerals to know how this is going to go. I will be the only person that is not crying. Except for this time? I'll end up being wrong, because this time something happened. Something that has never happened before. For this is an open casket. I now realize in that moment that I have never been to an open casket funeral before. I don't know how that has happened, but I just have never been to one before. If we're being honest and I'm going to be honest. They did a great job as far as the outfit and the hair, but the make-up well... she doesn't look real and that's where the problem lies and what is going on with my eyes? The fact is that she doesn't look real. She looks like a mannequin and it bothers me. It disturbs me because I know that this is not a mannequin, this is a real person and between that and the fact that I know that she'll never be able to wake up and say "Hey, I'm not a f*****g mannequin, I'm a real person!". Which, if that happens, would cause loved ones to scream with joy and terror, also causing women and maybe the pastor to pass out clinching his cross. Just stop for a second and imagine the site a bunch of bodies falling over at a funeral. They'd fall over from passing out, but still none the less, from a far that would be a hell of a site and I'm probably going to hell for saying this, but that would be funny as f**k.

    Either way to a somehow, at that moment, for the first time at a funeral, I started to cry. Which is a good thing in the fact that it shows my love for her, but it would also be a bad thing. It's a bad thing because it turns out I am an ugly Crier. Now, in my defense, I did not know this due to the fact of me not really crying before. Well, there was the time in high school when Janice Carter cheated on me and everyone knew for weeks except for me. When I did find out and I got home from school I cried in the shower for about an hour. Like a little b***h. I also got yelled at by my mom when I got out for using all the hot water, but that is neither here nor there.

   Anyways, back to me being an ugly crier which I blame on the lack of practice. See the way I figure it those who cry a lot, experience criers as I call them. Well they probably got crying down to a science. They probably even know what kinda cry it's going to be ahead of time; a little drizzler or the stormy showers. Now me, being an armature I don't real know nor did I mastered any real control, so it just flowed. I mean I'm sobbing away with snot coming out my nose, making funny pig noises as I gasp uncontrollably with some jerking of my body like I am ejaculating or something. It's like a knee-jerk reaction...or a dick jerking reaction... What can I say, I'm was not prepared for this. I didn't study for this test. So it becomes a site as everyone stops and takes notice of this....abomination. I mean people I don't really care for are coming up to me telling me it will be alright.  Man, if I could stop this madness for even one second. Then surly this would of been my reply "F**k off and die! Because if it was you down there, I guarantee I wouldn't cry!" But no, I was resorted to a weeping hoe. Who needed to blow their nose.

   Well well, I can already hear the stories when they get back home.

It's going to be so so rich. He's going to be like "did you see so-called hard a*s Rob crying like a little b***h!" and she will reply with "Ya! and did you see how he was dressed? Man, he looked like monkey in a suit!".... 

   God I hate people. Why did you create them? I mumbled to myself as I blew my nose and wipe my salty eyes. My old friend Death slowly started to leave "Tell my Nana I love her and miss her!" I said to him as he slithers away. Without hesitation he replied " you can tell her yourself...see you soon Robert." 

   A month later I was a monkey in a suit again. Only this time I didn't cry, but to me my make-up didn't look real and for the record I'm not a f*****g mannequin!

by the unknown sith