polar bears

JesusThis is heaven, John. There is no other place. This72is not some poorly organised waiting room for a brighter, warmer, kinder world. This is all you will ever know. You can accept it or you can reject it. Which strikes me pretty much as a no-brainer. But that's just my opinion.Stage four is butylic fermentation. That's twenty days or so. Body goes flat. Dries out. Maggots can't feed any more. So you're left with beetles and anything else which muscular jaws that can chew at the tough bits. You get a different bad smell now. Butylic acid. Same smell you get in Parmesan and vomit. You'll see hide beetles, carcass beetles, cheese flies.Finally you go into the dry decay phase. Bones, hair, skin. No significant moisture. All the potential nutrition's been used up. At which point mummification starts. Which can carry on for … well, how long is a piece of string?Pause.This is heaven. The hurt and the rot and the cruelty and the madness. People stick hearts on Valentine's cards and get married in white dresses and give each other flowers. They think love is everything going right. That's not love. That's self-indulgence. That's good luck. Love is when you walk into the burning building. Love is when the person who means most to you in the whole world is breathing through a mask and pissing in a bag. Love is when they no longer know your name.Pause.I've got to go. Things to do. People to see. You look after yourself, OK?