Friday, August 26, 2016

Life as a nonagenarian is not for me.

I wanted it then. I still want it now.

To not die old and withered, wasting away on a bed, suffering from the geriatric ailment du jour.

So how do I want to die? Jumping out of a plane on a skydiving trip. Coming down from a hike in the mountains. Losing myself among the ruins of an ancient civilization.

Or if it is imperative that I should die on a bed, then it should be after I've had the hottest, heaviest, most mind-blowing sex in my entire life.

That's how I want to go. When I am truly alive, because anticlimaxes are boring and utterly forgettable.