What eight year old prays that he won't go to heaven? It's the weekend, which I think means that I get to post ridiculous stuff on steemit and litterally no one will notice. You may ask, why post it at all then? Well, you won't be asking that because you won't be goddam reading this, but lord knows I am asking myself that very question. There are two basic answers - no three - but the first doesn't count. That is because the first answer is that I am a little drunk. The first of the next two answers is that four cents profit is four cents no matter how you cut it. The final and most important answer is that I get to take words that have been flying through my head for some time and nail them the hell down. Like butterflies in a glass case. Somehow the Internet feels more permanent in that way. I know...blockchain something something. Whatever. I have a math degree and know how to prove the theorem behind RSA public key cryptography and even I don't give a shit.
Back to the original question. What eight year old does that? A highly religious one. Some kids learn about heaven in Sunday school. Some actually believe it. I was one of those who believed it so hard it made me sick. I mean - forever? Like forever ever? (To quote Outkast). It's pants shitting terrifying if you ask me. As for ghosts, that is even more sickening. I am not saying I am afraid of ghosts so much as I am afraid of being one. Can't think of a worse fate than wandering about as a fragment of my former self, reliving some whisps of thought over and over again.
Some people say they believe in an afterlife because they don't want this life to be all there is. I don't want to seem like a jerk, but I think they are confused about what the word "life" means. Yes, I suppose there is at a minimum the continuity of sensory experience, but our lives are made of all our interactions with other people in the order in which they occur. Each moment comes laden with potential and risk, driven by knowing that the moment will never come again and that number of remaining moments is in constant decline. It is a region in a web that ultimately connects all people to all other people. In that sense life is less a descreet object and more a shape held in place by all the other shapes around it. Attempting to extract that shape would cause it to lose cohesion. Sure perhaps something with some parts of you might live on after death, but would it really be you?