My legs are SO paralyzed!
I have weird rules about posting about my life stories online. Usually if I've said them to somebody, I won't post it. Somehow I think the fact that I've told all of two people about something that happened to me means that I would just be posting about old news. Of course, it could be the fact that all of two people actually read what I post. Probably.
Anyway, I thought I'd break away from my self-imposed restrictions just once to announce something that's very dear and important to my heart and consequently, my future. I'm going to be morbid and remind everybody that we all are terminal. We'll all die and perish, our organic bodies will fade back into the earth, the feast of microscopic and not-so-microscopic organisms.
Admittedly, despite my eternally optimistic outlook on life, I do think about what I would have done to my body once I do die. Now, most people don't really dwell on these kinds of thoughts very often, but I think most of you will agree that I do have very dark tendencies. One could probably be stating correctly when they say that my darkness is darker than your darkness.
So I've decided, and this is my big announcement, on what I want done to my body once I move on into the next realm. I've thought about being poetic and romantic, with those of you who weren't dead by the time I die on the top of a seaside cliff on a fairly windy and mildly sunny day, holding jars of my ashes to pour out over the ocean to the sound of bagpipes, Celtic fiddles, and the crashing of the waves below, but that was too sappy, I decided. It did, however, score me a lot of points with the ladies reading this.
After showing my emotional and artistic side, I thought about the traditional American funeral, where you all dress in black and display your affection for me in your almost quiet sobs. Yeah, I thought, that would be a fitting end and tribute to my life; the best part being the one or two of you that threw yourself to my coffin, pleading to God (or your gods, whichever) for my returning into your mortal existences. This scenario hits just the right notes in somberness, but the problem was that it was too plain. Too ordinary.
So what, then? How do I effectively exit this world in a curtain call worthy of the life that I have lived and the lives of those that I have touched? Almost immediately after pondering about this issue I came across the most perfect way for me to exit stage right: encase myself in cement in some sort of pose, probably a defensive and somewhat horrified pose, with "Died in a freak cement-pouring accident" engraved somewhere on the slab.
It's genius. I can guarantee that nobody at the funeral, upon the unveiling of my final earthly form, can continue to have what is arguably the worst day of their lives, ever; especially if I died of something unremarkable or in my sleep. Also, at the cemetery, and I can picture this now, you will have on the left, "Jacob Smith: Beloved husband, father, and friend", on a headstone, and on the right, a man-sized statue of an Asian man cowering in fear from the vast amounts of wet cement that sealed his fate engraved with the enscription: "Tom Lu: Died in a freak cement-pouring accident". Not only would it radically affect my own funeral, it would ruin, I mean, alter other funerals as well. I feel sorry for anyone buried within sight of my tomb. Tom's tomb is better than yours, indeed.
So that's what I plan on doing when I die, and now you know. But then, you now knowing kind of takes the mystique out of the deed. However, there will still be those who really do think I died by the way of cement mummification and that in and of itself is worth it, I think.
Anyway, I thought I'd break away from my self-imposed restrictions just once to announce something that's very dear and important to my heart and consequently, my future. I'm going to be morbid and remind everybody that we all are terminal. We'll all die and perish, our organic bodies will fade back into the earth, the feast of microscopic and not-so-microscopic organisms.
Admittedly, despite my eternally optimistic outlook on life, I do think about what I would have done to my body once I do die. Now, most people don't really dwell on these kinds of thoughts very often, but I think most of you will agree that I do have very dark tendencies. One could probably be stating correctly when they say that my darkness is darker than your darkness.
So I've decided, and this is my big announcement, on what I want done to my body once I move on into the next realm. I've thought about being poetic and romantic, with those of you who weren't dead by the time I die on the top of a seaside cliff on a fairly windy and mildly sunny day, holding jars of my ashes to pour out over the ocean to the sound of bagpipes, Celtic fiddles, and the crashing of the waves below, but that was too sappy, I decided. It did, however, score me a lot of points with the ladies reading this.
After showing my emotional and artistic side, I thought about the traditional American funeral, where you all dress in black and display your affection for me in your almost quiet sobs. Yeah, I thought, that would be a fitting end and tribute to my life; the best part being the one or two of you that threw yourself to my coffin, pleading to God (or your gods, whichever) for my returning into your mortal existences. This scenario hits just the right notes in somberness, but the problem was that it was too plain. Too ordinary.
So what, then? How do I effectively exit this world in a curtain call worthy of the life that I have lived and the lives of those that I have touched? Almost immediately after pondering about this issue I came across the most perfect way for me to exit stage right: encase myself in cement in some sort of pose, probably a defensive and somewhat horrified pose, with "Died in a freak cement-pouring accident" engraved somewhere on the slab.
It's genius. I can guarantee that nobody at the funeral, upon the unveiling of my final earthly form, can continue to have what is arguably the worst day of their lives, ever; especially if I died of something unremarkable or in my sleep. Also, at the cemetery, and I can picture this now, you will have on the left, "Jacob Smith: Beloved husband, father, and friend", on a headstone, and on the right, a man-sized statue of an Asian man cowering in fear from the vast amounts of wet cement that sealed his fate engraved with the enscription: "Tom Lu: Died in a freak cement-pouring accident". Not only would it radically affect my own funeral, it would ruin, I mean, alter other funerals as well. I feel sorry for anyone buried within sight of my tomb. Tom's tomb is better than yours, indeed.
So that's what I plan on doing when I die, and now you know. But then, you now knowing kind of takes the mystique out of the deed. However, there will still be those who really do think I died by the way of cement mummification and that in and of itself is worth it, I think.