It occurred to him that what had appeared utterly impossible –that he had not lived his life as he should have done–might after all be true. It struck him that those scarcely noticeable impulses...which he had immediately suppressed, might have been the real thing and all the rest false... He tried to defend it all to himself. And suddenly he realized the weakness of what he was defending. There was nothing to defend.
-Leo Tolstoy (The Death of Ivan Ilyich)
Death arrived by mail. How indecent! I had expected a more grandiose entrance. I envisioned him dressed in a robe and hood, wielding a scythe—slowly approaching after having traversed deserts, mountains, and seas. I imagined him marching to the rhythm of Berlioz’s Danse Macabre, shaking the ground with his heavy footsteps. The increasing rumble would fill me with horror. When he knocked on the door, the house would tremble, and I would be so frightened I would wet my pants. And when he broke down the door and revealed his skeletal face, I would simply perish of terror. But that’s not how it happened at all.
He came in an envelope without a return address, clearly sent to me, and stamped with the words “Special Delivery.” It was a large Kraft paper envelope, similar to those used by the Ministry of Defence to notify families of their child’s death in a particular war. Since I didn’t have any children involved in any war, fighting for the interests of the corporations and the ruling classes, I realized this letter was a notification of my death.
When I opened the envelope, she emerged from it, strutting in high heels. Her hair and eyes were intensely dark, accentuated by heavy makeup. She was wearing a short, tight black dress with a daring neckline that almost revealed her enticing nipples. Without waiting for an invitation, as though we were long-time friends, she casually walked across the room and settled on the couch, crossing her legs so that I could see her buttocks and panties.
“Aren’t you going to give me a welcome kiss, you fool?” she asked, looking at me with a lustful glance.
Wow! A woman! And to add to that, she was gorgeous and seductive. I was instantly overcome by a terrible urge to make love to her until I die. That’s what it was all about; my time was up.
“You are stunned by the fact that I’m such an alluring and lascivious woman. Aren’t you? You can’t deny it, can you? I bet that right now you're just thinking about fucking me and sucking my tits and my pussy.”
“I'm not shocked because you're a woman; I am amazed at how vulgar you are.”
“It’s because I'm not a sucker like you; I'm a bad-ass bitch. I tell it like it is. The thing is, Death isn’t what you imagine it to be. It is something else. There are many of us working in the Ministry of Termination to be able to cope with the demand. We’re just messengers. We do what the upper-level bureaucrats decree but don’t have the guts to carry out themselves. If someone is a decent guy, like you, they send me so that he can die peacefully, or, as I like to put it, so that he can come before he goes. But if you are a mother-fucker, they’ll send in Stalin. That's not his real name; we call him that because he is a sadist. That fucking monster enjoys making people suffer before they die. See? Those up above are not entirely an outfit of wretches completely devoid of compassion; they have some sense of justice.”
“If that’s the case, why did they place us here? What is the purpose and meaning of all this?”
“That's the problem with humans; you feel the need to rationalize everything. You have squandered an excessive amount of time and energy searching for purpose in life. Philosophers, monks, and scientists have gone to great lengths attempting to clarify everything, yet they have failed to arrive at any definitive answers. The more you explore, the greater the mystery becomes. Nevertheless, like fools, you continue to search for answers, allowing yourselves to be taken in by any spiritual figure who guarantees you paradise and everlasting life. This frantic quest for meaning in life only leads to anxiety, ulcers, depression, and a propensity to create belief systems that align with your desires. It also results in a willingness to hand over control of your destiny to those demagogues, who exploit your vulnerabilities. Tragically, the most gullible among you may resort to suicide if they can’t find the answers they’re seeking. What if you found out that life is devoid of meaning, that you're just a speck of dust in the vast universe, that your life is simply a series of random events, and that your existence does not affect anything or anyone? Would it really matter? Who the hell told you that everything has to be logical? Is the Aurora Borealis any less breathtaking if you don’t understand the physical phenomena causing it? Isn’t it the opposite? Once you know how the magician performs his tricks, it ceases to be magic. So, cut out the bullshit. If you want to eliminate the existential anguish that is weighing you down, quit adopting the zany role of a master researcher that must dissect life and scrutinize the universe to unravel its ultimate secrets. You don’t need to understand what makes life tick or why the universe moves the way it does. Your big mistake has been dedicating all your time to finding an explanation for life rather than actually living it. That’s why your existence feels unfulfilled. You’ve been given a chance to experience this world—why worry about the reasons behind it? The goal of your life should be to embrace it and live it to its fullest. As your friend Carlo wisely says (by the way, he is a good guy; I am not planning to take him away any time soon), “The purpose of life is 50% about procreation and 50% about what you contribute to it.” In other words, it’s up to you to define the purpose and direction of your life; you get to determine what it means to you. Live all you can! Travel, love, be true to yourself, and spread kindness wherever you go! Don’t get caught up in overthinking! The only true sin is wasting the time that you’ve been given on this planet. Do you know what will happen to you when you die? You will be fucked! You will return to where you came from, to dust. Do you know for how long? For all eternity! The atoms you possess will go back to Mother Earth. Afterwards, you will be reborn (Hell yes!) in the petal of a flower, the leaf of a book, or the eyes of a beautiful woman, And, in that sense, you’ll achieve immortality. But don’t panic, I'm not here to take you away. I'm here to warn you. You have been granted a second chance. We know all about you; you've always been a decent person; you've never disappointed anyone—not your parents, your kids, your friends, or your women. While that's commendable, that chapter of your life has ended.”
“I do my best to make the most of my time by travelling, reading, and writing.”
“And what’s the point of that? You might be able to understand and explain concepts like differential equations, pulsars, black holes, the socio-political implications of Rousseau's Social Contract, or pinpoint the location of the Sea of Marmara. Yet, you’re clueless about the simplest and most essential things, like dancing—you’ve never bothered to learn. And as for your interactions with women, what have you accomplished? Aren't you embarrassed by your overwhelming solitude? You are lonelier than shit! Always regretting and thinking nonsense. Your life has gone down the drain, you jackass!”
“What do you want from me? I’ve tried numerous things, but nothing has worked. I’m ready to give up. There’s no point in trying anymore.”
“You have been given many opportunities to love, but you haven’t seized them.”
“Opportunities! That really makes me laugh! You’ve always forced me to pick the lesser of two evils. I’ve never been given a third choice.”
“Many women have crossed paths with you, haven’t they?”
“Indeed, in complicated situations where any meaningful relationship had little or no chance to blossom. Benázir and I only shared a genuine friendship, without any deeper feelings between us. Jill-Marie disdained me, perhaps because I'm older; sometimes I wonder whether it was because I'm darker. Both Carmela and Nevin were already married, and neither Albania nor Guadalupe had space for me in their lives, as their main priorities were their children, careers, and their homeland; they needed to return there. As for Sofia, she was struggling with psychological issues that I couldn’t help her with, and honestly, having five cats was more than I could tolerate. However, you can’t argue that my relationship with Elise was different; I truly put in the effort, I genuinely loved her, I made room for her in my life, and I gave her the importance she deserved. She is the one who lost interest, perhaps because devils are more exciting than angels. But what can I do about it? You shaped me into who I am. How is it my fault that women are attracted to bad guys? And let me be clear: I’ve attempted to play the role of a bad guy, but it just doesn’t suit me; it falls flat because it is fake.”
“What about Arsinée? I’ve heard rumours that you’re head over heels for her.”
“That's not true. And even if it were, what difference would it make? She is not in love with me. There’s no place for me in her life; her top priorities are her children, her career, and her country. Soon she’ll be gone and will not return. Do you see what I mean? The same pattern keeps happening. The women that I usually meet and feel attracted to end up going back to their homeland. Do you do that intentionally to toy with our feelings? Do you get bored up there? Do you enjoy playing these cruel pranks on us? Is that your idea of having fun?”
“Go to hell! Cut the crap, and tell me what you’re going to do. Are you going to let her walk away, just as you did with Albania and Guadalupe? Follow her to the end of the world! Don’t be a fucking idiot.”
“Armenia is too far.”
“Do you see? That's your problem; you're a pussy, you’re weak, and you have no balls. You have to live the rest of your life, which is not a lot, in a different way. I’m going to rephrase for you the thoughts of three individuals; they’re definitely my kind of people. Henry James: ‘Live all you can. Not to do it is a big mistake; it does not matter much what you do, as long as you have your life.’ Doris Warshay: ‘Travel to the farthest reaches of the world. Reach out for all the joy nesting in your soul. Change your limitations. Feel how your mind and your spirit grow. Live! Be! Exist! Love and desire! Pay attention to the truths inside you.’ James Kavanaugh: ‘Go! Be free! Leave the sterile behind, in their safe emptiness! Go away, without saying where you’re going! Walk through a vacant field and there, take the world off your shoulders, and then walk away, carefree, like an unemployed Atlas.’ Are you surprised by this philosophical outburst? You're not the only book-smart person out there. I’m not as coarse as you think I am. I, too, have achieved a certain degree of enlightenment. But the crucial point is that your time is limited, and whatever is left of it, you have to use it wisely. If you do, they will send me to take you away, and you'll be free to enjoy me to your heart's content; you will experience a peaceful end. If you don’t, you’re in serious trouble. They’ll send Stalin to get you. And trust me, that son-of-a-bitch has earned his reputation for a reason. He’ll ensure your demise is the most brutal and agonizing you can imagine. So, be cautious and think carefully about how you want to spend the rest of your life. Don’t fuck up!”
©Translated from the Spanish by William Almonte Jiménez, 2020
© Spanish title: “Entrega Especial”
© William Almonte Jiménez, 2012
