What are you going to do when you die?

Two friends are sitting on a couch watching TV. They are S and D. S is on his phone, swiping through his feed. D seems lost in thought, before turning to S.

D: What are you going to do when you die?

S shoots D an incredulous stare.

S: What do you mean, what am I gonna do? When you die, that’s pretty much it right? There’s nothing left to do; I wouldn’t be able to do anything at all. I’d just become dust.

D: Well, what if there was something you could do?

S opens his mouth to respond, but pauses suddenly. He stops to think for a second.

S: I mean, in a weird way, you’re basically asking me what I want to do with my life, right?

D shakes his head.

D: No, I’m talking about after. We know what we are. There’s certain limitations to what we can do right now, but when we die, we have no idea if that afterlife comes with that same ball and chain. We have nothing that can drag us down.

S: Okay, sure. But as we know nothing, the possibilities are all equally as likely to be true, right? What’s the use in pondering when we don’t know what comes next? It could be as bad, it could be worse, it could be nothing at all! 

D puts his hands up in protest. S stares at him funny.

D: For the sake of this thought experiment, let’s say you’re simply unchained. You can do anything, be anything. There’s nothing that will stop you from doing or becoming what you desire. It’s all up to you. So what are you going to do when you die?

S: So in this hypothetical scenario, I’m basically playing God, then? I can reconstruct the world to my whim with ease, and with that same ease, I can destroy it? I can indiscriminately define reality as is, and rewrite it again and again if I so desire?

D smiles, amused by the verbosity of S's response, which could have easily have just ended at the first line and carried the same weight. But this was his friend and he knew S had the tendency to ramble when given the platform, so he decided not to taunt him on this quirk.

D: Sure! Like I said, you could do anything, be anything. If you want to be God, you can. You’re dead, so why not, right? Nothing matters anyway.

S appears aghast. D looks at him with a quizzical expression.

S: “Nothing matters anyway.” This is all pretty dismal to think about. If I’m in control of everything, then what’s the point? If the universe beckons to my command, it’ll never feel authentic. Honestly, I think I’d lose my mind. That's a lonesome fate, forced to be stranded on an island of your own creation. Do you really mean to suggest I would be the designer of my own prison, a cosmic torment?

D shrugs.

D: I suppose that’s true. I mean it seems like we’re operating under the assumption you’d be alone in all this. Why wouldn’t anyone else be with you?

S purses his lips. He seems to consider this at first, but ultimately shakes his head at the amendment. He appears unimpressed.

S: That would help, if others were around. But if we’re all omnipotent and omniscient, I can’t help but think of the conflict that would swirl about. Ego is so disastrous. Conflict would surely arise and we’d be where we are once again, at each other’s throats, but this time in a more Sisyphean fashion. Nothing matters, so nothing would change. Worlds would get destroyed and rebuilt all the time. You could hide away, but we’d define rules to find each other so we could go back to tormenting each other. What would be the point?

D stares at S in amazement before laughing. S appears unperturbed, used to being the subject of his friend's amusement. He knows D's laughter carries no judgement. It is just a reaction.

D: It’s a good thing we don’t have that power right now then, huh?

S nods in agreement.

S: We’d probably all erase each other in the end. What would you want out of it anyway?

D looks up to the ceiling and thinks silently to himself for a minute. He continues to look up as he responds.

D: Hm, probably just lie down in a meadow of flowers while birds chirp around in the trees. I’d eat peaches and feel the warmth of sunshine on my skin. Sounds like a pretty good deal, huh?

S smiles.

S: That sounds nice. What about when you get tired of it?

D: I’d go to sleep!

They both laugh.

S: Not a bad notion at all.

*** SCENE END ***