I want to die knowing I made a difference in the universe, however small. The entire world doesn’t have to know my name for me to be satisfied, I just want to know that I did something worthwhile that someone somewhere will appreciate even when I’m long gone. Everyone has a part in this world, a role they were born to play, and I want to die knowing that I fulfilled my purpose, that I contributed my two cents to world history, so that things can be better even if I’m not around to see it.

Tonight I feel completed,

Her eyes  finally shut down,

Escape from reality that can't be repeated,

Evening pizza and coffee brown.

Never this will be forgot, 

Daily readings of my thought.

I want to die slowly.

Enough time to say goodbye.

To smile and fall

softly into death.

I don't want to be

a phone call my parents get

at 2 am,

rather a kiss on my forehead,

and knowing I am safe,

and then letting go.

I don’t have much experience when it comes to death. My grandfather on my father’s side died before I was born. Funny, isn’t it. He lived through a war, through battles, through heartbreaks, through pain and joy and anger, only to be brought down by his own body.

For my grandfather it was his heart that gave him away. The treachery of his own organ was his inevitable undoing. He had the first attack at 49. Far too young, far too early. But he survived. It was the second one that took him. 69. 20 years later. Long enough to watch my dad grow up, to watch him begin to take shape into the semblence of a human being. My dad was 20 years old when he lost his father.

Sometimes, when I was little, my dad would tell me stories about my grandfather. Stories that made me giggle till my chest ached, stories that made me want to cry, stories that made me long to know this man, this man whose’s blood courses through my veins.

My dad says he would have liked me. Me, my headstrong, stubborn, frustrating self. He says I would have liked him too.

My dad had a heart attack at 53. The betrayal, as it turns out, was not due to the smoking, or high blood pressure, or multitude of unhealthy habits my grandfather had. No. Genetics, their own DNA was the cause. Undone by the essence of their being. But he survived.

And they pump him full of pills and treatments and strategies and appointments. But he is still my dad. But for me, the thing that changed most is what I fear. I fear history. I fear DNA. And I wonder if I will have 20 more years with him.

So, how would I like to die? I think the answer is obvious. I don’t want to. I don’t want my heart to stop beating. I don’t want to lie, cold, silent, unmoving on a metal tray. Blue lips, grey skin, decaying body.

I want to live! I want to see the Northern lights and travel to Greece and climb a mountain and swim the depths of the ocean. I want to live!

Inevitably, I’m going to die. One day. One day I will stop running and singing and jumping and writing. But until then, until my life is taken from me, I’m going to close my fingers tight around every moment of existence. And death be damned, I choose to live.

Death...

How do I want to die?

I don't want to die in my sleep...

I don't want to die of something like a heart attack or a stroke...

I don't want to die from cancer...

I don't want to get my ass murdered.....or any other part of me murdered

I don't want to lose control of this fight because I don't want anyone to think it's their fault.

I want to die of old age. Eventually, I just won't be able to go on even if I wanted to. All the people who put their time in and effort into me will be gone and won't be able to mourn. Eventually, I'll be alone. I want to die and not expect it but not have it be fault...

I don't want to choose but if I have to I want to die of old age because that means you have to give me a reason to work towards being able to live that long. Death...I'm not afraid of you....so make me afraid enough to not want you. If we're all going, to be honest here, Death make me want to wait to meet you.

I prefer a natural death with all its inconveniences. What I would prefer the most is choosing the atmosphere in which I pass on.

My hopes of the perfect death are quite hopes, as life has thrown me a curve ball. My kids ignore me.

I would like to be "weak," like in the movies, mumbling my last coherent words, still understandable, to my loving children who caress me and sit at my side with alligator tears in their eyes.

You ask me how I want to die? As if to spark some inventive idea in my head, as if I hadn’t thought about it too many times before. You ask me how I want to die, but would it not be too much to ask for a death that is less painful than living? For a death that brings relief, rather than pain? That is my choice: anything that hurts less than the dissonance of existence. Will that choice turn out well, in the end? Well, I suppose, while a painless death may well be my choice, the consequences are not mine to experience. Because I will be dead and in the dark, those who love me will mourn, and those who hate me will rejoice.

And that is why I choose to endure, because the pain is nothing compared to the pain others will feel because I accepted your offer to die. To die now would be selfish. And I would rather get through the pain than make pain for others.

I can't say how I want to die, but, how I don't want to die:-

- drowning in the vast ocean alone

-burning of flesh.

-accident cuts me to pieces.

-cancer break me to death

-stabbed by a serial killer in darkness.

-heart attack

-suicide-jumping off a tall building, eating poison.......

There are many more dreadful ways of dying...I hate dying in any of this way.

I have not yet thought of how I want to die.