I've always wondered what it'd be like to die. I have a list of questions for god when I get there. Questions like why he made the dinosaurs, and what was going on with the humans that came before us.
I've finally ended what seemed like an eternal fishing trip. I've always felt that life was a long fishing trip. You go out on to the waves paddling on my own little boat, hooking up worms, thrusting the line forward, and waiting... and waiting. My hands have soaked in the much cold salt-water from this world, my worms have at many times been have bitten away, and my back has suffered under the long wait. I now retract my fishing hook for the last time. Only I'm not sure whether I've caught a fish today or not.
I plan to have a funeral. I don't want it to be too emotional. After all my death isn't something that's just sad- I'm now relieved of my waiting. Nor is it something that's just happy or something to party on about. Honestly how well could anyone party in someone's funeral with a coffin in the room regardless of how nicely decorated everything might be. Afterall, I'm dead. I wouldn't mine some tears. It just seems too unnatural for any single emotion to prevail.
I want my funeral to be held on the rooftop of my grandparents and our house. There used to be a garden there with fig and pine trees. 하늘공원(Sky Park) we would call it. I used to climb the cold stone stairs and sit on top of one of the 항아리s there and look at the lights and the endless rustling of the city around me. Sometimes I'd go up there with my brother and a laser and point the ray right down in front of pedestrians and have them puzzled. But now the park isn't what it was before. The weight of the trees, the ants and bugs attracted to the trees, and the water seeping through the rood on rainy or snowy days forced us to get rid of the park. The roof is now waterproofed with some green cover and the trees removed. With some of the money I have left, I'd like to rebuild the little park and make sure there are enough 항아리s for everyone who comes to sit down.
At my funeral I want to play some of my songs. Crude creations on SoundCloud they may be I think it would be cool to have an album I made to be playing at the rooftop park. Songs that talk about my biggest catches, my salty hours, and my home and people.
I've always thought it was strange for dead people to ask their guests to do something for them. But I now I see that I want to ask people to do something at my funeral as well. Through the fishing trips on the sea, I have become both a skilled fisherman and somewhat a wizened old pirate's tack. The day's catch would be on my mind. Times of failure, laziness, and mistakes would come to haunt me. But for those I care about who still have much fish to catch and waves to battle I want them to be free. Free from images and focused on the essence, free from that ruthless and restless energy to catch more, free from worry, free from themselves. So I ask that balloons be inflated on the rooftop and for everyone to write down a message or anything that burdens them and to let the balloons fly at the same time.
