- Joined
- Sep 28, 2008
- Messages
- 12,523
- MBTI Type
- JINX
- Enneagram
- 5w6
- Instinctual Variant
- sp/sx
Yeah, I learned long ago (the hard way) that the "48-hour" rule doesn't apply to all situations. Of course, jokes regarding someone's spouse/partner directly after a breakup is safe within 5-10 minutes. However, that won't get a laugh either. More of an appreciative grin.

Granted, I was the ex.
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To put this back on the topic of death.. I either don't want anyone to remember me at all, or I just want people to laugh. Frankly, I'd prefer the former.
I think I'd be comfortable with dying alone. I don't want people in my personal life to take care of me as I deteriorate. I don't want a grave/grave marker. I don't feel like I need to be remembered. This isn't a lack of self value or poor self esteem issue at all, to be clear. I'm just pretty at peace with coming and going and ...that's it. The timing is an issue, but hey. When isn't it.
I've seen a lot of death- mainly of those in my personal life across many age brackets - and I have no issue being there for others through it, whatever it nature. I'm loathe to put anyone else through that. And... I think I'd want space to have my own feelings about the process? I'd probably just be focusing on making everyone else around me feel better if they're with me.
I don't think there's anything after this. That's fine. It's a pretty thought, an afterlife, but it just doesn't make sense to me.
If I could just walk off into the wilderness when I'm old/otherwise nearing some kind of irretrievable decrepitude - as some elderly once did in Native American tribes - and die alone like that, I would. Unfortunately, we've populated this planet so much that there's too much of a chance my corpse would traumatize some poor unsuspecting hiker who just wanted some hashtag-nature selfies for their Instagram.
I've signed up w/the Anatomical Gift Program at Harvard. They can use me for education, cremate me for free, and I really don't care what becomes of my cremains. They're just charred cells.
If anyone is around to remember me, someone had better muster up at least one cheesy joke about Lex getting into Harvard.