I Envy the Dead, but I don't want to be that at all. I want to be sitting around reading books, writing, and listening to the soft drip of the rain falling from my window. But no matter how hard I try I'm constantly bombarded with the fact that we are dead... The conversation that should have never started but instead became my first conversation since death: "God is nowhere to be seen!" "God is everywhere!" "The divine doesn't care about us, were on our own!" I open my mouth to yell, but I realize no sound will come out. I spend the rest of my time here listening to dead chatter now.