ASSIGNMENTS:
|
|
Rebecca Haych
Nambour, AUSTRALIA
|
|
REPORTS:
PREVIOUS NEXT
|
|
Once I'm dead, the fate of my cold lifeless body is in the hands of my friends/family/etc. I hope that if for some reason my body is lost, my family/friends/etc. don't feel the need to find it for, closure, or something. It's just a body and it means nothing without a soul/spirit/personality/life to inhabit it, so my wish is that 'I' am remembered.
Family/friends/etc should do with my body, whatever will give them satisfaction. They are welcome to hold a big ceremony and invite everyone I knew, to cremate it, donate the body to an institution for scientific research, gut it and send the innards to a hospital to save Polly whose kidneys are failing, use the ashes as compost, bury it in some country I always talked about visiting but never did (which by the way, is kind of a silly idea, because I still won't be able to see or appreciate the destination, because I will obviously be dead), preserve the body and put it in a museum (who knows I might be really famous/culturally significant by the time I die), preserve it and sit it at the dinner table... etc.
If however, someone other then my family/friends, have the responsibility of disposing of my remains, then those persons are free to do what they like with my uninhabited body. If it is a bad thing that they do to it, then it will be on their conscience for the rest of their lives I guess, if it is a respectable thing they do then bless their lovely souls.
I do not want my stupid body to be a burden, and I only want a marked grave stone if that's what my loved ones want.
I don't want these cells to be a burden, and they won't be offended if no one leaves a bouquet at the grave sight every year.
I only hope that my body will rot and become the earth and the earth I will be immortalized in the soil which pushes up the plants and feeds the people.
Once I die, my soul and my body become estranged. Remember me in your hearts, and don't remember my body, or talk to my grave. My body is to be forgotten and not used as a symbol of my time on earth, or a reminder of me. So chop it up and put it in no-frills cat food for all I care, it means nothing.
Remember me my loves. Not my body.
|
|
|
|
|
|
