end credits

It’s hard to think about the world without yourself. I wish I understood more about death. It is not a singular thing. I get the concept: the end of a consciousness.

I am looking forward to dying. I have a desire in me to know what happens. Death reminds me of flowers. Or do flowers remind me of death? I imagine it hurts.

Death is something simple. It is the worst possible outcome.

“He had a great time with us, but it’s better than him being in pain,” said my Mum on the day my cat, Thomas, had to be put down. He had a brain tumour.

I believe that we sleep and we dream. I like to dream because it allows me to do what I like and to go where I like.

An eternity of dream.

Death is what you think it is. What you think it will be. When you are born, there is a 100% risk of you dying. We will all be gone.

Death is something simple. I guess we all got to do a bit of dying sometimes. I am not scared about being dead: I will know no better.

I want a really sad funeral. I want my dog, Levi, to be at my funeral.

Death is curious. Death is exploited. I laugh at funerals. Death.

Nana won’t be Nana without Granddad. Granddad won’t be Granddad without Nana.

I imagine death is pretty boring and that worries me. Because my life, right now, is pretty much perfect and fun and silly.

I’d like to reach the age of 107 and five days. That way I’d reach 2100. I don’t remember the last Millennium but I want to experience the next best thing. Did I mention I fear death?

My fear isn’t my death. It’s the death of others. Do anything you like with me. Most of all I want to die peacefully. I want no pain.

I want a simple death, like a guinea-pig may have. When mine died, it crawled into a ball in its beloved tunnel, to be alone. I wish to do the same.

Yet, with all the fear, I can’t help but feel, in some extraordinary moments in my life, that dying would complete the joy of the moment.

Death is something simple. I’d quite like to believe that I will come back as something: that my skull will be in Hamlet.

I want to die to laughter and applause.

Often, the best people in our lives get the front seats.

by youtheatre