Death

For about a month in the late fall, I would walk past a dead squirrel on the way to work. I assumed it had been hit by a car, but it wasn't as flat as I would've expected to be run over. At first it was right on the sidewalk along 12th right by City Hall. Then a few days later it was on the grass beside. The snow came and I forgot to look for that dead squirrel as I tried to navigate the snowy route that would never see a shovel.

Never did I think about moving the squirrel or giving it a proper burial. I would just look with curious fascination that no one else would do that for the squirrel.

I don't like squirrels. They are nothing more than rodents that have managed to convince man they are special with their furry tails. I wouldn't feel a moment of sorrow to peg one off with a rock or pellet gun.

I've been watching a lot of Dexter lately, which may have bled into my real life.

Like anyone who has depressed thoughts, I've considered the idea of dying - accidentally, at my own hands, or through some long and painful disease. While suicide has never been a realistic option, it's never completely off the table. I like having options and being able to choose my direction in life.

I have a morbid sense of curiosity that I take into my job. I enjoy going to the murders, the horrific car crashes and the industrial accidents. It's rare that I see more than a body bag or a tarp, but it satiates some gruesome need to remind me that life is always traveling towards the end.

I think coming close to death is an interesting social experiment. Who cares? How do I deal with it? It's as good of a measure of your life as the actual death because at least you're there to enjoy it, or to suffer through it.

I believe in the old adage, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger". Sometimes I wish for suffering so that my peaceful existence can become more meaningful. I had one of those childhoods where I may not have had the Disneyland vacation, but had everything I ever needed - a kid from a middle class home with two loving supportive parents, a brother close in age and interests, and all the opportunities I could handle. I don't have the sob stories.

When things are bad in my life, they aren't actually that bad. But I need something.

My need for ups and downs isn't a need for drama. I want the excitement, the thrill, and the experience. I love having stories. Stories of travel, of what happened one night in a dirty Gastown alley, and of life (and death).

When I die, I hope my body can be used to its entirety (science, medicine, transplant). Have a memorial, but no funeral. Buy a park bench, or memorial stone to act as a place marker in case you ever want to go back and drum up my memory.

The memorial would be small, outside if it's raining. Use whatever money is in my chequing account for food. I guess if I die now, y'all aren't eating much.

Instead of pictures of me, decorate with pictures I've taken.

I once wrote a list of songs to be played at my funeral. It's pretty terrible. Funny how my tastes can change so much in three years. I'd say look on my computer, arrange my itunes by playcount and find the top nine vaguely sappy songs (and one fun one). Right now it'd be:

1. Make You Feel My Love - Adele
2. Brighter than Sunshine - Aqualung
3. Feeling Good - Nina Simone
4. Sing - Travis
5. Across the Universe - Jim Sturgess
6. Try a Little Tenderness - Otis Redding
7. Reckoner - Radiohead
8. Crash Into Me - Dave Matthews Band
9. This Year's Love - David Gray
10. In Step - Girl Talk

Anyways, I don't want to die. There are many things I think I can still bring to this world. I believe there is a lot of me to give, including my love to a good man and possibly a child to this world. But that's still many years away. In the meantime, I can only give myself. Hope that's enough.