When My Time Comes

I know it’s pretty morbid to most people, but somehow I never had much of a problem talking about it. To me death is as natural as life. It’s inevitable. When my time comes to pass from this realm of existence, I do not want a funeral. Instead, perhaps, my friends and whatever family I still acknowledge will raise a glass of their finest beverage and salute my memory. Do not mourn me but celebrate my life. And don’t bother placing yet another box into the crust of mother Earth, my wish is to be cremated just as my father and his father before him have done and which my mother will do in her time. And think me wierd if you will, but I want my ashes to be scattered on both lands of my ancestors meaning half of me in the U.S. and half of me in Ireland and U.K. I’ve always felt a subconscious pull toward both regions, so I feel it fitting that my shell straddle the ocean and touch both ancestral lands.

About DarkPhoenix

I am an open book. My pages are just stuck together.
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