After you die, people stop addressing you by your name.
'The body has been sent for postmortem.’
'The body will arrive by this afternoon.’
'The body was discovered by the local fishermen.’
You stop being a person. You lose every title, accomplishments and honours that once meant everything to you. All that is left is a dead pile of flesh and bones that somehow is you, but not good enough to be considered as the real you. Doesn't matter who you were before, after death, you lose your identity, you become one with everything and everyone that existed before you.
You become nobody.
'The body has been sent for postmortem.’
'The body will arrive by this afternoon.’
'The body was discovered by the local fishermen.’
You stop being a person. You lose every title, accomplishments and honours that once meant everything to you. All that is left is a dead pile of flesh and bones that somehow is you, but not good enough to be considered as the real you. Doesn't matter who you were before, after death, you lose your identity, you become one with everything and everyone that existed before you.
You become nobody.
