Mommy, What Happens When We Die?
So, while I’ve gone into my various beefs with religion I’ve also stated that I roll with God and we smoke L’s together. Lets just say that my flashes of brilliance are much brighter than yours. .
Anyway, the other day when I was sitting in a warm bath with the sleeping pills and the razor blade thinking about what happens when we die, or more specifically what I wanted to happen after I died.
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I’ve always given this a lot of thought since I was just a wee one. My mother has said she remembers me at around 4 or 5 telling her that I "just didn’t get" the point of life and in some respects I still don’t. I mean beyond the whole "smoke drugs, touch girls" daily routine, I’ve found some things that I would say give my life some semblance of meaning, but beyond going into specifics I’ve always felt (for me) the whole point of life was to amass as many stories as you could and try to improve upon the lives of people you interact with (no homo).
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Furthermore, I’ve always been a big fan of trying to span the spectrum of human experiences as a means of getting to know myself better. I’m not one of those people that thinks you need to be poor to really understand being rich, I just think they each have their own unique positive and negative qualities.
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Anyway, so I’m sitting in the bathtub singing to myself "you must have been a beautiful baby" while cleaning the dirt from underneath my fingernails and contemplating The Big Sleep, right?
I think I’ve pretty much decided upon the actual funeral and burial plans. I’ve always (for at least 6 years) wanted to have a jazz funeral where people were celebrating my life as opposed to mourning my death. There would have to be lots of drunken revelry, marching and generally a good time. Best to bring your gun to that second line (I’m so much more cultured than y’all its ridic. do you even know what a second line is? answer in the comments section. win cookies).
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Beyond that, I’ve always wanted to be buried in a pyramid right here in NYC. In a perfect world I could have my pyramid up before my health started failing (too late) and could spend the twilight years smoking L’s in my pyramid with the youth of the day and putting them on to how shit went down when I was on my way up. Ideally the pyramid would be built of solid gold (how come no one has done their pets grill yet? I’m def looking into that market soon.) and it would enjoy some sort of legal grey area where people could just come and chill without having to worry about being hassled by 5s or whoever.
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Anyway, I’ve always imagined Heaven to be some sort of crazy inside view of your life, complete with multiple camera angles of your every step, word and interaction as well as real time replays of your life and moments in it as you see fit. I also always imagined (this is since the late 80’s, early 90’s when the purple feet were everywhere. what? you just moved here from Ohio and you don’t know about the purple feet. too bad.) that every step you ever took was recorded somehow and once you died you could see all of the footprints that you left. I’ve always been into statistics (but not statistics class) and I figure that my peoples up in Heaven have been keeping pretty accurate records of the things you have done. Like "how many beers have I drank" or "how many people have I made smile" or "how many girls have I kissed" (I was trying to figure this out once, I think its gotta be over 200. God know, literally) and in my mind all of this is available once you lay your head down for The Big Sleep.
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So anyway, I feel like I’ve done a pretty good job of doing a lot of diverse shit with my life and making the most of my time here (excluding all those "Clarissa Explains It All" marathons I watched and those endless games of solitaire on New Years Eve). I’m a better person than I was a couple of years ago, and I feel that constant progress is also a key to a healthy life.
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ROX ONE. I’ve had a written will since I was 12.
