I think I just experienced Enlightenment.
What if, one day, you were diagnosed with an unknown disease and had only three months to live?
I was doodling hearts on my math homework when the answer suddenly hit me: I'd write a bestseller. I've been told that your best work always comes when you have a death threat looming over your shoulders, so I might as well do something productive with the remaining three months of my life.
I'd give my soon-to-be-bestseller a quirky name, and it would be written like a diary. Like all great works of literature, my life would seem perfectly ordinary at the beginning of the novel - then there'd be a bit of foreshadowing here and there, the strange symptoms begin to show up, and I get diagnosed with a rare but hopelessly incurable disease. I'll make sure I describe my rotting health in a humourous, blackly funny voice, and make wise aphorisms about the meaning of life.
I'll be lucky if I contract the disease in March. This way, when April 1st rolls around, I can write a new entry using a one-liner that'd go along the lines of, "It's a miracle. The doctors have found a cure!" And the very next day, I'd continue counting down the minutes to my grave - it's up to the reader to realize it was a sad attempt at an April Fool's joke.
It's probably bad omen to wish for your death, but I'm actually looking forward to writing this bestseller. Hopefully I'll die by some means of unknown disease, if not peacefully in my sleep.
I was doodling hearts on my math homework when the answer suddenly hit me: I'd write a bestseller. I've been told that your best work always comes when you have a death threat looming over your shoulders, so I might as well do something productive with the remaining three months of my life.
I'd give my soon-to-be-bestseller a quirky name, and it would be written like a diary. Like all great works of literature, my life would seem perfectly ordinary at the beginning of the novel - then there'd be a bit of foreshadowing here and there, the strange symptoms begin to show up, and I get diagnosed with a rare but hopelessly incurable disease. I'll make sure I describe my rotting health in a humourous, blackly funny voice, and make wise aphorisms about the meaning of life.
I'll be lucky if I contract the disease in March. This way, when April 1st rolls around, I can write a new entry using a one-liner that'd go along the lines of, "It's a miracle. The doctors have found a cure!" And the very next day, I'd continue counting down the minutes to my grave - it's up to the reader to realize it was a sad attempt at an April Fool's joke.
It's probably bad omen to wish for your death, but I'm actually looking forward to writing this bestseller. Hopefully I'll die by some means of unknown disease, if not peacefully in my sleep.