Every once in a while there comes this thought that rudely supplants you from your merry (I'm assuming) chugging 24 hour orbit around yourself and lets you see things you probably shouldn't even be telling your friends about at the risk of sounding completely insane. Today was one of such...just happened to be around a computer (lucky me). Well here it goes.
I want to see what my obituary looks like. No there are no hidden meanings or death threats implied, I'm just wondering. Doesn't everyone want to know how they'll be remembered. I think thats the best judge of how you lived. So coming back to the point...my obituary. It just ran through my head today...the entire thing so I'm here in the hope that some of it still stuck. Here it is (ie heavily assuming that someone actually bothered writing one).
Ajit Rajiva died today from complications we don't completely understand. He was 5'11'' and a half and it was a shame he died before he fully achieved his vertical limit. He had the worst hair imaginable but not that it really mattered. He had brown eyes from which we inferred that he was full of crap. No offense to you other brown eyed ones. Towards the end of his days he grew thinner and thinner as though warning us of what lay ahead. We never realized. We're sorry. Kindly adjusht.
What can i say about the 19 year old midget that died? What was he like? In his own words "I'm an Aardvark to the rest of the world, although that would be too kind. Aardvarks had purpose (Eat ants, for those who didn't realize)." Then what would be better? A sloth i suppose... Neither here nor there and didn't care if here or there was where he really wanted to be. This is how we choose to remember him, not for whatever sentimental value it contained, but for the fact that one month from today thats all you'll actually remember him as.
Idiocy was as much a part of him as was his face. Although he was told his face and his personality never matched. Was god trying to tell us something? We'll never know. And the day we start perceiving these hidden signals will be the day I'll write your obituaries, and at the rate I'm going, you really wouldn't want one of these.
Today we bury him - or at least whats left of him. And we can all rest easy now that he's gone. One less to worry about. May your soul rest wherever it decides to go. At least make up your mind now!
Its weird what i dream bout.
2 comments:
If I ever see an obituary in the papers this cynical I'll kill myself.
And if such an obituary was indeed written regarding your demise, he'd have to publish it over my dead body......
i'm gonna remember you as my 6th.. :)
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