Then I got older, became wiser and understood, “Why?” Why we don’t want to grow up and why we don’t last forever. I’m saddened at the thought of my mom not being here forever, and I am sure this type of thought has crossed several other minds as well. But then I realized, as the law of conservation of mass and the first law of thermodynamics put it, energy (matter) cannot be created or destroyed, only changed from one form to another. We are all walking blobs of molecules (matter) that carry energy (matter) in their bonds. So when we die and our molecules break down, that energy is transferred through the process of heat from one form to another. It’s a similar concept as recycling. I think about this idea every time I find myself craven; that people don’t really die. They’re still with us, and all around us. This makes sense right? In a nut shell, apparitions and ghosts are just energy particles that absorb heat from their surroundings to summon themselves. This is why the air becomes cold when a spirit appears. In sum of it all, I call this idea: life.

We all think about death at some point — and I’m sure we have all fantasized about watching our own funeral in astral projection, or something like that. They say one can only rarely tell a man’s character by who shows up at his funeral, and this is what I have concluded:

When I die, I want my funeral to be one big, awesome party. Open bottles of Hennessey (Vodka, Whisky, etc.), a beer pong station, a keg or two, massive amounts of food and a boom box (or an awesome DJ). I want people to be happy regardless of how, when and why I died. I want my friends and family to party and have fun with me as my spirit sits on my gorgeous wooden casket; painted in Tiffany Blue with white boarders.

In times of death, people are brought together. Many mourn and shed tears for the loss of that someone — and there are times people isolate themselves through the stages of depression and denial. Though, why push those away who carry the same burden? As I always like to say, sharing doubles the joy and halves the grief.

However, the one thing that would make me happy and my life complete is if people rejoice in my death. As weird as that may seem, and banal as this may seem: it is the circle of life, and it is the truth. I want people to know that I am not really gone, that I am still here in some form or another. I want people to think about what I have thought about… life.

When I am gone, I want people to know that I am okay, and while you’re down on earth, I’m up in heaven learning about the meaning of life (suckers). At my funeral, I want people to party in the memory of me; to laugh and smile, and tell stories.

I want people to remember my funeral the way I remember life.

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I wrote this six years ago. I hoped you enjoyed it.