One of my fears was that at the end of my life my headstone would read the following:
Chris Scholl (1974-???)
He had so much potential
You have my permission to smash it to pieces if this happens.
I thought it might be far more interesting for my body to be put through one of those tree chipper machines and shot into the ocean as food.
Either that, or stuffed and sitting in my favorite chair with my fake eyes super wide open like I’m constantly surprised.
I also thought it would be funny if the embalmer was ordered to insert a mechanical device into my spine so that in mid-funeral I would sit up, moan, wave my arms a bit and then fall back into the open casket. Although I’m not sure who else besides me would find this funny.
Besides all of that non-sense the previous headstone fear has less of a grasp the more projects that I complete. It has become a motivator.