Death and tomb stones… 7. September 2016

 Fried bacon and an egg, some tomato and white bread with mashed avocado and garlic sprouts.

 Some French fries, because I had a bad day.

 Vegetable soup (potatoes, carrots, rutabaga, cauliflower) with sour cream.

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I was asked to help out designing a tomb stone for my grandmother’s friends. The thing that made the entire stone supper creepy for me was that on there was also a living person’s name with their date of birth. I understand the reasoning behind it; I mean she will be one day buried under there too… but she is alive now and putting her name on a tomb stone feels to me like inviting death. Apparently this is a common practice though and my grandmother has her name engraved on a family tomb stone too. I guess people like to prepare for their deaths.

I don’t want to be buried when I die, I want to be burned and my ashes scattered in the woods. I also don’t want my name on any memorial stone ever. I’m dead, why would something like that matter? I want people to remember me where I lived, not  where my body ended up. Don’t get me wrong, I like graveyards and understand their significance, but it’s not where I want to go when I one day die.

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