No Ceremony

I'm so lucky. I didn't realize just how lucky I was until I opened my eyes this morning and saw the light reflect through the makeshift stained glass windows. The things I can see and the feelings I can feel when one eye is poking out from behind the satin sheets.

I'm snug as a bug. I've got my flowers, my books, by blackout navy blue curtains, my colourful bed quilt, my red and yellow dresser, my red nightstands, glass red lamps...Oh gosh, the things I can dream up in this room, you can't imagine. I love it here...no drama...except for the kind I can concoct all by myself. That's the only kind I'll accept.

I am finalizing the last remaining details of my Testament of Will. Yes, that day has come to think about such things, about the finality of everything as I know it. 

Even here in my imagination, even here where I escape from the harshness of life, reality still manages to take a foothold. But, I'm going to make it beautiful. I'm going to make it count. 

There will be no funeral, no wake, no ceremony. My ashes will be scattered on the water somewhere of my choosing. No one will gather around for me. Let us rejoice eachother while alive. 

I don't care for your tears if your presence is non-existent...now. Stay away. I'm perfectly fine. I've been to enough funerals to know none of it actually matters. I see how people treat eachother. I see how family members fall short. I see how asleep we all are. I see how mean, cruel and petty we can be. I'll let none of that honour me in the end. I won't give anyone who didn't care in this life for me an opportunity to give some meaningless speech about how they wished they'd tried harder to be kinder. Fuck you!

Maybe some of my ancestors will greet me, maybe Mary will be there, maybe Jesus, angel Uriel ? Thank goodness for you all. I'll forget this place but first give it thanks. I hope I've gathered enough of myself to still exist. Maybe, just maybe, and only then, my suffering will finally make sense.