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A few nights ago I dreamt of my funeral. It was sad.
Then I dreamt again and I was dying on a ridiculously tiny hospital bed, alone.
Last night, however, my dream got the cherry.
I dreamt I went to the doctor because I didn't see as well as I could with my right eye. Exams and shennanigans later they found out it wasn't my eye that was wrong... well, it kinda was...
Throat cancer was the diagnosisand it had spread over the inside of my head and was making me go blind. The doctor, an old man with rosy cheeks, wanted to contact my closest family. I refused.
Don't misunderstand, I am a heavy smoker and if I ever got cancer I would not be surprised in the least. I had it coming, right?
However when faced with the possibility of going through therapy and getting better, though going blind, and just letting the disease get to my brain and just offing me, I chose the offing.
In secret.
Forward then to myself at my job, where I was quite happy with a customer and suddenly I just gurggled something and fell of my chair. Dead.
And all my previous dreams came up and ganged up and I saw my own funeral and all the faces of people I haven't seen in such a long time were there and people I learnt to love were crying and my little princess of broken dreams couldn't even stand up on her own and she kept cursing and shrieking and she had to be held back by her family and I just wanted to comfort them all.
It hurt.
I woke up with a scream, sobbing like a little baby (I won't comment that in this weird dream of mine my mother was a walking corpse, my brother kept sobbing and my father was absent, no I won't) and trying to convince myself it was only a dream (stupid, I know, of course it was a dream, I am alive, aren't I?) and I stayed awake the rest of the night.
It got me thinking, nonetheless.
I know I will die one day, everyone does, and I really know what I want to be done with my eartly remains. However, I've never thought about the people I woud leave behind.
Not good.
If anyone cares enough to read by now and ignores the emo rant that has flooded your flists:
If I die before you guys do and you still love me enough to care, I propose a picnic! I won't be stupid enough to ask you not to cry, that would be hypocritical of me to do, but I want you guys to sing a song at the top of your lungs and try to gossip and giggle at the shared memories we had.
Laugh that instead of a guardian angel you got the wicked witch of the north east and that I'm still in my broomstick, cackling like a chipmunk while I watch you all down below.
Stupid thoughts, aren't they?
Love you all, I'm sorry, I feel so cold really...
Stupid August.
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