Tuesday, March 30, 2010

When I'm Gone

One day, you're going to hear a horrific story about my untimely demise. It will shock you, it will sadden you, it will bum you out.

Then you'll be standing around at my funeral. Perhaps in front of my casket at the venue. Or maybe outside after the service. Or in the graveyard after my body has been lowered into the ground. You'll be amongst my friends, and someone will say, "I'm not surprised by this. I knew Paul would do something crazy like that that would get himself killed." And you'll nod in agreement, maybe with an auditory gesture of disappointment.

Just wish I could be there to see it. And nod in agreement with you.

Ed. Note: There is nothing wrong with me. Thank you for your concern.

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