Morbid, huh.

I stayed home all day today. The cold that Chris had last night grew worse this morning, so Stephen and I decided to forget our plans. Half of me is kinda hoping that there’ll be school tomorrow cos I want something to do, but the other half wants to sleep in all morning. That’s what I love about no school–waking up late.

My maternal grandfather is in the intensive-care unit and we all think he might die soon. I never got to know my grandpa that well because a stroke he had when I was really little damaged his speech forever. He could still talk though, but not in straight sentences. A couple of years ago he had another stroke and now he can’t talk at all. What’s worse, he’s bedridden and he looks really thin. Ugh, I would hate to die of a disease or something, and spend my last days wasting away on a hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. At least my grandpa’s comfortable cos he’s got some money from selling land and stuff. But still…when I come to think of it, I don’t really know how I want to die. I’m not afraid of death; rather, I’m afraid of how it will come to me. Actually, it doesn’t really matter how I die as long as it’s quick. No suffering, no agony.

While we’re on the subject of death, I want to tell you how I want to blow this joint. When I die, I don’t want to be buried and have my body desecrated by worms and decomposing agents underground. Whenever I go to a cemetery, I imagine always all the corpses underground rotting and looking like something out of a horror movie. It’s gross. Anyway, I want to be cremated and my ashes thrown from a cliff over the sea. Not placed in an urn, cos that’s kind of gross too. I don’t want to become an ornament in the house. You know how in those Anne Rice books, the only way vampires can die is if they get burned and their ashes are scattered? Well it’s kind of like that. I feel like I won’t really be free from this mortal coil unless my ashes are scattered and nothing of my body remains. Doesn’t really matter where they get scattered, as long as it’s on a cliff over the sea. And that way, I won’t get too depressed if my relatives forget to visit me on my birthday or death anniversary. If my family doesn’t do that, I swear I will give them nightmares of corpses rotting and rising from the grave until they take my body to the crematorium.

Morbid, huh.