I stood in a graveyard with a man looking at a tombstone
"I pity them" he said, and lit a cigarette.
"who the dead?"
"The living"
My smoke fell out of my mouth. "but there's so much to live for"
He shook his head not lifting his gaze "We are trapped by the body. A body confined by hunger, exhaustion, desies, to hot to cold!" he said raising his voice "and our minds" he whispered "and our hearts.
They're so irrational. We over react, we shout, we cry, we go into fits of passion and rage" he sighed "all the lies, all the hate, all the sadness"
He looked at me
"I am the gravedigger. I see things at night that you will never encounter. They speak to me. They do not wish for life. That is why i pity the living. That is why" he looked down again and put out his cigarette "I will join them soon"
Then he turned and walked away