Friday, December 14, 2012

The Proper Way To Die (Part 3/7)

4. The Revelation

Wait, wait, wait... I just said I wouldn't want to tell anyone I'm dying because of all the annoying attention it would garner. So what's with all this talk of revelations?
Quite simple. The attention is only annoying in excess. It's extremely desirable in small doses. Hell, that was the entire point of this exercise! I would tell people, but only right at the end, when there's just enough time left for me to reap all the benefits of impending death without reaping any of the annoying solicitous bastards who come with it.
I said 'reap'. R-E-A-P. And no, I don't mean it as an anagram.
Now, obviously I can't just tell someone. That would be really awkward.

"Hey man, wassup?"
"Nothing, nothing. You?"
"Oh, I'm dying."
"Yeah, right."
"No, I'm serious."
"Prove it."

So that's a lot of time wasted there. And it doesn't even end after proving it. Then I have to explain why I didn't tell anyone.

"Because I didn't want you to worry or make a big fuss about it!"
"Then why are you telling me now?"
"Because... um... now I'd like you to worry and make a big fuss about it. Pretty please?"

See? Lame.
So I'm forced to resort to filmi stereotypes once again.
Long argument with someone I care about. Probably about how I don't spend time with them anymore.
Other person says a lot of mean stuff. I don't because death has given me a sense of perspective or some kind of sappy bullshit just like it.
The argument escalates. Voices are raised, accusations are made, things are said that can't be taken back, you know the drill.
And then...
I collapse.
I'm rushed to the hospital. Hopefully there are no traffic jams on the way.
I'm admitted to the hospital. Hopefully there are no protocol-worshipping doctors from Munnabhai MBBS on the way.
While I'm in the ICU, my friends find out that I'm dying. Now see, in this scenario, not wanting a fuss is a valid excuse as it isn't weakened by the fact that I'm telling them now since I'm not the one telling them now, someone else (maybe a parent, maybe a doctor) is because there's no other choice.
Did you understand that sentence? Good.
So what happens? The impact is much stronger. They feel a lot sadder about my death since they now think I'm some kind of noble martyr who didn't want to bother his friends with something so trivial as, oh, I don't know, the frickin' end of his life as he knows it, even though that's complete and utter bullshit. 
Come to think of it, there's a lot of bovine faeces involved in this process. I'm not proud of it, but it's necessary.
It's necessary because I don't want to be remembered as a petty douche even though I am one. So yeah, I'll pretend I don't want people to worry about me even if it involves barefaced lies like, "No, no, don't worry, don't be sad, don't cry."
Yeah, right. 
Of course I want them to worry. Of course I want them to feel sad. And I wouldn't mind a couple of tears.

After all... that was the whole point!

To be continued...

Negligent doctor - You didn't know your friend was dying? he told me aaaages ago!

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