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Have you thought about dying?
I usually don't. I die enough as is on Liero and most other video games as is. Not only that, but apparently death- rather, bringing it up- it considered rather a rather morbid affair. Not morbid enough to have as a discussion topic during another purposeless U.S. History class. We need to talk about these kinda things, no? Everyone will die. Just accept it. Another thing games have taught me- Everything has its time.
Hahaha, what an odd entry to follow up yesterday's, huh?
It was an oddly lively conversation today. To summarize it, one guy wanted to die peacefully in his sleep. One aspired to kick the bucket in a mosh pit. Another one? She dreamed of the time she would pass on, choking on pasta.
Kinda makes my 'death by revolving door' idea lose a bit of its spark. I happen to like pasta.
But I won't forget my shopping-mall oriented style of going out. If it is possible to earn a one-way ticket to the after life by exploding a lung from Helium inhalation, the prospect of being crushed in rotating four-way planed apparatus is hella-possible.
I'd also like to think that people won't be entirely broken at my funeral. You can't spell it without 'fun'. This, I quote from the ever-popular daily autobiographical comic 'Allan.' It true. I want to know that someone celebrated my life instead of mourning its conclusion. Just who am I, y'dig?
Also, I've decided that when I do die, I want to be set ablaze before they drop my box-o'-ashes into the ground. If those damn worms want me, they can eat burnt powdery Michael. Wahahahahaaa!
The next question Pasta-Girl asked: What do you want to have done before you die? This startled me. I hadn't thought about that too much at all.
Sure, I've given the whole future thing a couple of hours of deep thought (Most of them during English class), but I didn't quite connect the dots. What DO I want outta life before I'm asked to put in initials for my high score?
That's a toughie. What I dream of, what I know I can do, and what is probably most possible are entirely different things.
I'd like to rest easy knowing that I at least made someone's day a bit more interesting. As if I don't do that already... (in all fairness, 'interesting' is sometimes substituted for 'hectic')
I was onto something deep a grand, when my little streak was dashed away when someone else chipped in: "Dude, death by cheerleader. GO BRONCOS!"
What the heck is wrong with you people?!?!?
Everyone knows Cowboys cheerleaders smother the best.
The debate ended with the epithany brought forth from a small girl in the back of the class.
"Clowns. Clown rage will consume all. No doubt. Like, I looked into a clown's eyes once. They were scary as hell. I could see into his soul through them. An endless want for trick-flowers and animal balloons, cream pies and bargain make-up, consuming life force from all and turning it into an incurable rage of clown. Clown pies. Clown invasions. Clown ursuptions. Clown democracy, Clown revolution, Clown Communism. Clown wars. Clown destruction."
And everyone says I'M the freak of our class.
 Miles Luneau · Wed May 20, 2009 @ 04:52am · 0 Comments |
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