Memento Mori
Salutations!
I am writing on behalf of the dearly departed Veronica. She would, if she were conventional and "boring," be currently sitting in a bathtub of her own congealed blood. But, since she is not the typical "uninventive" type, I'm sure she has found an innovative and witty way to off herself.
Though there are varying accounts of her "doing herself in" my hope is that has driven her dirigible into the Eiffel Tower. Or perhaps, while sitting in her "oh-so-boring" chair and reading her "oh-so-boring" Sartre, or Baudelaire, or what have you, that she simply burst into flames. Yes, spontaneously combusted, leaving this earthly realm in one glorious, blazing instance. Many have speculated that she stuck her head in an oven, while others chalk up her self-inflicted demise to barbituates and aged Scotch, though to me it seems she would never entertain such tralatitious avenues of suicide.
You, on the other hand my dear, venomous, fork-tongued friend with the "witty" sniggers, I presume are in far more need of either upping your medicinal intake or simply taking one "doll" too many and going to that sweet, eternal rest.
In your case, rage not against the dying of the light.
You'll be doing the world a great favor.
Adieu!
I am writing on behalf of the dearly departed Veronica. She would, if she were conventional and "boring," be currently sitting in a bathtub of her own congealed blood. But, since she is not the typical "uninventive" type, I'm sure she has found an innovative and witty way to off herself.
Though there are varying accounts of her "doing herself in" my hope is that has driven her dirigible into the Eiffel Tower. Or perhaps, while sitting in her "oh-so-boring" chair and reading her "oh-so-boring" Sartre, or Baudelaire, or what have you, that she simply burst into flames. Yes, spontaneously combusted, leaving this earthly realm in one glorious, blazing instance. Many have speculated that she stuck her head in an oven, while others chalk up her self-inflicted demise to barbituates and aged Scotch, though to me it seems she would never entertain such tralatitious avenues of suicide.
You, on the other hand my dear, venomous, fork-tongued friend with the "witty" sniggers, I presume are in far more need of either upping your medicinal intake or simply taking one "doll" too many and going to that sweet, eternal rest.
In your case, rage not against the dying of the light.
You'll be doing the world a great favor.
Adieu!