Don’t Come to My Funeral

From a blog in Chinese I’m subscribing to right now, translated…

Don’t come to my Funeral. Because there is not, will not EVER be, one.

It’s not that I’m immortal, it’s just that, I don’t want to bid anymore farewell.

I’d never wondered how long I will live

Had never feared, the concept of death either

It’s just that, when I found my love, for you all, and her too

To be, so passionate, so out of control

I’d started, fearing death

And now, I’m always fearing death constantly

A few days ago, it was, my maternal grandfather’s day of death

That day, I was, having so much fun

That I had, completely, forgot, about that that, was the day, that my grandfather had died

Then, at the moment when I finally remembered, in the depth, of the night

I felt this, sudden onset of panic, found myself, suffocating slowly

Turns out, that I had, finally, accept, the truth, that he’s, completely gone

And I had, said my final farewell to him, completely

Goodbye.

If I had, died

How long would it take you all, and you, to accept, that my timely demise as finalized

A year? Or two?

Or maybe, sooner, a few weeks, or just, in days?

I don’t want to, say goodbye

Funerals are, a pointless kind of rituals

With you, as the protagonist

But only in, one picture

I wish there not be a funeral for me

So if I’d died one day

You all, and you, don’t even bother

Because, whose hearts, will I stay in

Had already been, decided whilst I’m still living

I don’t want to say farewell

This would be the writer’s view on death, and the rituals surrounding death, and, he is right too. Because by the time you’d died, who you are had already been, set up, in people’s minds, and, the eulogies those who’d come, may or may not be how they really feel about you.