I’d rather be asked how do I want to live, but ... since I’m older than most people younger than me (hope ya’ll catch that one), I’m living as good as I can now.

But this isn’t about living, it’s about choosing a way of death. I can say that hanging is out. I don’t like the idea of struggling, wiggling and thinking; this was a bad idea.

Since the electric chair is a thing of the past, that’s dead in the water, although I don’t need someone throwing a toaster in the tub when I’m taking a bath!

Firing squad? Well if it were a foreign country, I wouldn’t have any say in the matter. Just lock, load and fire. End of story. Otherwise, nothing to worry about, and honestly, I’m not good on the idea of people I don’t know shooting at me.

The best way would be in my sleep. But even that one is a toughie. My sleep pattern is so spotty. Four hours one night, none the next, ten hours the next night. You get the idea.

So then I think back to when I was in my fifties where I would kid around about how I wanted to go out, so we’ll go with that one.

I want to be naked, in bed, with a beautiful woman on top. I grab a Pepsi, take a long chug, then take a hit off a cigarette (quit smoking seven years ago) and then die. Paramedics rush in five minutes later and she turns to them and says, “Can you guys come back in ten minutes? I’m not done yet!”

Yeah, I leave this world but my body still has some use.

But the odds say I’ll end up dying in my sleep. Bummer.

Preferably, in my sleep. That way, I’ll be able to opt out on the death speech. You know, the whole final words thing. Everybody will just wake up and discover that I’m gone. Then again...that isn’t dramatic enough...

The second way I’d like to die would probably be with a bullet to the chest...As I sink to the ground in slow motion, loving arms there to capture me. As I look into this person’s eyes and feel as if it was all worth it. Hey, maybe I took the bullet for this person.

With a spluttering and sputtering, a heaving, a gasping for my last breath...I’ll give my final words. Something beautiful and emotional. Maybe a dream that never came true would be spoken of. Maybe my wish for this person. Maybe all the regrets I have, all those things I can never fix or do now. And then...I’ll just freeze mid-speech, mid-heaving, mid-gasping. It will be over.

Wait, that's sad...Okay, we'll go for the dying in my sleep, which is very unlikely to happen, but at least I won't have to give my whole speech. So, I get to save my breath and tears (because, I'll probably end up crying as I deliver my final words, because they WILL be EMOTIONALLY BEAUTIFUL; just saying).

I would not like to die at all

I relish grand adventures, but

I try to plan for obstacles and elements

And there are no maps for the hereafter

But if I must go to the next place

I want to do so with eyes open

I do not wish to drift off in a dream

Not quite sure where one world ends

And the next begins

I want to take it all in

The sun’s light so bright

It creates a kaleidoscope of rainbow hues

That shine before my pupils

The wind so strong

It shakes the leaves of one thousand year old trees

And the forest mimics an ocean swell

The earth so soft and warm

It is a gift to be buried beneath it

To be wrapped in an infinite embrace

I would not like to die at all

But if I must go to the next place

I want to take it all in

i’d like to say

i would go out

heroically

a martyr, if you will

burning, burning

in synchronously tragic and glorious flames

or maybe yield to gradual decay

from ‘bright girl’ to a fistful of dust

in the grimy corner of a prison cell

oh, to believe

with such radical sincerity!

but reality

has a made a cowardly thing of me

and i’d much prefer

a hasty farewell to this life

whether in sleep

or, worst best case scenario,

in an unforeseeable moment of consciousness

-- a single, sudden crack into uncharted eternity

most of all, though

i’d like to press my back to the earth

let my eyelids fall, imprinted with the ghosts of clouds

and fall into an endless dream

of waltzing with gravity

for an audience of seagulls and songbirds

and so death has become

more like a conceited fairtyale than a fatality

in the dark, dark depths

of my hopelessly romantic mind

Some goals fullfilled, some I

kept going 'till the end.

Then I'd die happily in sleep,

without reason to pretend.

The family weeps,

the friends all cry,

but they smile and laugh

even after I die.

An issue has improved.

I have a place in someone's heart.

Then, I'll go knowing

I have played my part.

If I had to die I would like to die amongst the greatest writers.

Only they could rewrite my ending into something simply magical.

Only then would my life have mystery.

A plot that thickens.

Where the end could indeed be a means to an incredible beginning.

If I had to die I would like to die amongst the greatest thinkers.

The minds of the future please.

In my will the greatest thinkers will write to be continued because life

is a cycle.

Everything must journey through birth, death, and rebirth.

So let me die.

Then let me be reborn in the hearts and minds of others.

Who share my passion for life's merry-go-round.

If I had to die let me die amongst the most powerful Tibetan monks.

And let my corpse be engulfed in my ancestor's african soil.

But let my soul be drown in stillness.

Let me die with intentions that my legacy will be resurrected.

when i die,

let it be not by a turtle,

whose beak will tear and rips

cutting here, biting there,

slowly devouring, bloody strips.

when i die,

let it not be by Peine forte et dure ,

an untuned pianoforte, ,

crushing, and that compression,

i shall, despite my effort, not endure.

when i die

send me not,

to the heartless lemurs,

they know my fears ,

and flash and murmur.

afterwards, they clean and shine,

and grin again, of what was mine.

when i die,

let be it not by catapulte,

a mangonelle, withwhich to shoot,

hurl me not , in upward climb,

if you refuse to hand a parachute.

i shall plummet so, with little grace,

and impact-crater, some dirt i displace,

a smashing ending, but total disgrace.

when i die,

dont break my neck ,

in one brisk pull, or with a noose,

the snapping spine,

as sep'rate beads on abacus,

you must find a better rack,

better then to hear it 'knack.'

when that bone of an angle, obtuse.

when i die,

like the lawgiver Draco,

i wish not to meet my fate.

give away your coats and shirts,

for the needy , please donate,

bury not, in robes, and hats,

as they did that man of Greece,

who's stifling end , please let me miss.

when i die,

in the kitchen, use some skill,

after death, please,wait until.

now with clever, sauceoan and a grill,

merinate and season, garlic and dill,

and for the guests, a happy meal.

this, my wish, i would instill,

to get you feasting, celebrate my Nill.

In my cabin

In the deepest depths of the darkest woods

on Earth.

The whirling snowflakes

in the howling storm

outside my cabin.

The quiet fire

The glowing embers

inside my cabin.

And me,

Alone.

On my rickety rocking chair

With the photographs of my family and friends

on my lap.

They are far

far gone.

And

Alone,

in my cabin, in the deepest depths of the darkest woods in the worst-howling storm ever on Earth,

I will cease

to be

alone.

We stood in in the backyard of a huge house. It’s ornate finishings and decorated exterior were lost to nature. A gloom had settled for the evening, and the sun neared it’s point of setting.

I knew you’d come.

...

You see, I knew your mother and father, such courageous people, generous too. However, they kept somethings to themselves, unforgivable things. See, you never quite knew them as I did; no... you’re far too young to have known them then.

Stop, Abe. You didn’t even know my parents.

Oh, I did know them. I knew them, and I loved them too at one point.

...

I was their firstborn! We are brothers, Graham... brothers.

[Eyes widen]

Yes, it is true. I was their one and only. I was their pride and joy. I was loved. I was given attention and gifts, and I would have grown up beautifuly. But my mother found out she was pregnant with you, and during her pregnancy, she had a vision. I heard the retelling of her vision through their door. I saw it Thomas. It was not just a dream. It will happen. I saw it. What did you see? Calm down. Tell me please. Calm down. He’s a murderer. He’s going to kill my new baby. He’s going to grow up and kill him. Cut his throat. I saw it. He stood in our yard, knife against his little brother’s chin; he’s going to kill him.

No...

Yes. And she was frantic. My father opened the door and found me standing there. He took me by the arm. It was cold, and the damp grass clung to the hems of my pajamas. And I remember shaking so violently that he had to carry me because I couldn’t walk right. He pulled me to this creek, and pulled a pistol from his waist. Now he was shaking. Pistol pointed at me, he turned his head away and shot. The bullet caught my arm. Disposing of me was easy as he pushed me into the creek and watched me flounder. I suppose he didn’t expect for me to live.

They wouldn’t have...

They did... [took a few steps forward] and it was because of you. [now face to face] So I figured, just for its sake, I would say a final hurrah by fulfilling the vision. [with a flourish, a knife was drawn and held against Graham’s throat]

You’re demented.

[smiling] Just a little, but it was all... [As Abe’s posture and grip go slack, Graham twists the knife away and plunges it into Abe’s chest] a prank... [Abe collapses]

What?

A prank... [between gargles and coughs] I got you... [chuckles]

THIS WAS WHAT?

A prank...[Abe laughs. A stream of blood rolls down his cheek] a prank...