Once again, I found myself looking at her profile. I noticed she added some new photos. I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t just put her behind me, and never look back. Her smile seemed devious, as if she knew I would be looking at this very picture. When I looked closer, I could see she wasn’t wearing the ring. I remember her specifically saying, “I will never stop wearing the ring, and if I do, I will give it back.”

I felt confused. I knew she wouldn’t give the ring back, and I wasn’t cold enough to ask for it. I suppose I liked thinking that the ring was important to her, that a part of me would always be with her. I think it was at that very moment, that I realised the unimportance of material things.

The ring wasn’t important because of its weight in gold, or because it was forged from my late mother’s jewellery. It was important because of the memories it incited. That’s all material things are good for. They stimulate the brain, and we attach memories and emotions to them. With or without the material item, the memory still remains.

I’ve come to the conclusion that although I’ve spent my life pursuing riches, and fancy things; I’ve had all I’ve ever needed this entire time. I have my senses, my intellect, and my memory. After all, without my mind’s ability to perceive the world, it would cease to exist. All of my favourite or most expensive objects would become intangible, and unrecognizable. The ring, as a ring, is useless to me, and I don’t care if I ever see it again.

I suppose my idea of the perfect life would be having the means to travel the world and soak in as much as my mind will allow me to in the short period of time I have on this planet. Since death is apparently inevitable, I would hate to waste my precious time, dwelling over the items I have purchased along the way. I doubt that when I die, I can take them with me. That’s because, I don’t really know what will happen to me when I die. My rational side is telling me, I will be recycled atomically back into the earth, and my consciousness will cease to exist. The other side of me, is unconvinced, and is unable to perceive the removal of all conscious thought. It wants to believe in an ethereal afterlife, painlessly floating through everlasting planes of bliss.

I presume I will never know the truth, until it’s too late. The only thing that’s important to me is being able to look back on my life during the last few moments of it, and feel satisfied. If this were to be my last second of consciousness, I wonder what I would like to be thinking about. What would I want my final thought to be?

Ah yes, I remember now.

-Gerald A. Dinkel (He just says things.)

http://sardonicconnection.blogspot.com/2009/07/5-my-final-thought.html