Since college, my approach to life and death has evolved to a point in which I'm unsure if I should rejoice or worry. The ambition from my earlier years has all but drained from me. Most days, I now have a strange readiness for death. Panic attacks and natural dread still remain, but they are diminished. It's almost like the stirring, classic song "Ol' Man River."
"Heart gets weary/ and sick of tryin'/ I'm tired of livin'/ and scared of dyin'!"
Beautiful. So am I healthily resolved or am I merely depressed? Have I reached some religious state of peace or am I clinical? I don't know. About the only thing I do know is I don't want to suffer decrepitness and the death of my loved ones, so I'm fairly intent on eventual suicide, although hopefully not until I am of a ripe age.
I think I've already got my tombstone inscription picked out!
I like it; I think it has the appropriate sense of dark humor. Although, it costs an awful amount of money to bury and erect gravestones, wasteful burdens I wouldn't want my survivors to bear, so cremation may be a better alternative. Has anyone else given much thought to the fate of his or her remains?