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Funeral Ideals

The other day, somehow, I got to thinking about my funeral.

The funeral that my sister would inevitably have to put together should I decide that I can no longer tolerate this world.

I didn’t have an idea of whether it was an open or closed casket, basically whether or not I died of an overdose or I splattered my innards on the floor.

But I could see so clearly, my other sister and my relatives talking about how I was always a moody child, and how I was overly sensitive.

It almost made me want to laugh.

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