Think about it.
You have eight seconds of consciousness after your head is cut off at the guillotine and held up for the crowd to see. What do you do? What do you think?
Do I think of all those people I let down in my life, all those girls in high school I never quite had the guts to talk to, all the great things I would’ve done if I had the chance? Maybe, but let’s be honest, let’s face it – most of us, even with a second chance, wouldn’t actually do those things anyway. We’d think, Phew, that was close, and then go back to our normal city routines, plus maybe a little therapy on the side.
So, realistically, I’d probably think, Fuck, if I knew this was happening today, I definitely woulda gone for that haircut. I mean, if I’m gonna be held up, finally, in front of all these people, I’d like to at least look my best, you know? And then I’d glance from side to side to see if there was anyone I knew in the crowd, and, just as I raised my eyebrows in acknowledgement at someone, they’d drop my scruffy head to the ground.