Monuments.

Monuments.

I don’t believe in eternal life, not as the Christian belief system says at least. Actually, I have no idea what will happen after death or in the moment of it, but I tried DMT a couple of times and it feels like there’s something going on there on the other side — but it’s neither heaven, hell, God, Jesus, the Devil or some other place or being meeting us with open arms or glowing pitchforks. I leave it to that, let’s see what happens — and if possible; report back.

But there’s a way to create some kind of eternal life, even if might or not might be possible to enjoy the fruits of it, and that’s to leave something behind; something creative, constructive, memorable and important. Not necessary something huge and easily accessible, but something that means something for yourself and for those around you — in life and after death.

The silly thing is that this first came to my mind when watching Robert Zemeckis’ wonderful black comedy Death Becomes Her (starring Goldie Hawn, Meryl Streep and Bruce Willis — and last, but not least, Isabella Rossellini) where a similar idea is brought up during the final scene. Much later I heard the Robyn-Röyksopp hit song Monument, and it all fell into place. I’ve simplified in the text, removing repetitions, but combined with the heavy, ominous electronic music, it sends out a very powerful message.

This will be my monument

This will be a beacon when I’m gone

Soon when that moment comes

I can say I did it all with love

I don’t know exactly what their message is, but it speaks to me as something some of us MUST do; we need to leave something behind, we need to be there even after we’ve passed away. It’s close to megalomania, but it don’t have to be a hit song or bronze statue of yourself; it can be in the shape of pleasant memories, fun moments, love and caring — and respect.

I’m not going to deny I often have a big ego, but I also try to combine it with being humble — almost shy — because in the end it’s what I do for myself that counts for me, and if I can build a good memory of myself then I’ve succeeded — even if no one but me cares. We’re creating a web around us, and on each of the cross points we’re leaving monuments of ourselves. Take care of those monuments, let them be something to remember. If you construct them from bitterness and greed they will give a sour aftertaste of you for eternity.

That web of monuments follow you after death, and maybe that’s why people see ghosts, who always seems connected to a certain place or time or person. It might just be a memory, projected by the living, based upon preconceived notions — which can be very cool sometimes, but personally I would like to be more than ghost of the past in the future. I want my monuments to rise high, to affect and entertain — even if it’s just for future relatives who reads about that crazy old homo and his occult adventures in popular culture. I want my monuments to be charged by those who discover them, and they will be — and have always been — like with everyone who want to leave something behind.

If I turn around now it will probably be too late, I’ve done it before and I know this is my last chance. I’m going to be on that future deathbed screaming NO REGRETS with my last fucking breath.

And behind me I’ll leave one monument bigger and bolder than the one before.

Fred Andersson is a Swedish author and television freelancer. He lives in Märsta, together with husband, two cats and thousands of movies and books. His latest essay collections Homo Satanis and Homo Satanis 2 is available on Amazon. Follow him on Twitter.