Actually, even if you don’t, you’re still approaching your death.
Dying is inevitable, and it will happen to us all. Whether you’re a toothless, forty year old chef at Denny’s with an penchant for zebra print and hot pink or Steve Jobs, someday, somehow, you’ll go to bed and kind of forget to wake up…for a really long time.
Now, let’s get personal and uncomfortable!
Am I afraid of dying? omg yes. Do I want to die? Hmm...eventually. People get boring, quandaries arise, and you just kind of get tired of this trivial routine that has become your life. I’m not some suicidal misanthrope. Quite the opposite, really. Guys, I love my life. My family’s a capricious adventure. Also, you don’t get two, warm apple pies from McDonalds for a dollar in the grave. I do believe in an afterlife, yeah, and (god forbid) I somehow end up in hell when I can’t even watch a bleach blond named Tiffany lock herself in a tanning bed.
The point is, when I die, there’s a few things you guys need to make it your life mission to happen, for the love of Doob.
- Forgive me. I’ll be frank, I do things. Some kind, some disgustingly atrocious, some freakishly weird, but I guess that’s who I am (?). Here’s an apology to all the girls whose haircuts I ridiculed in 2005. Your bangs are cute now, ladies.
- #TheDoobyEffect. Here’s my take on Steve Jobs’ Reality Distortion Field. Please make this a thing so I can die in peace. I give you all blessings from heaven and sprinkle glitter from above in approval (god willing).
- Sharukh Khan, Ranbir Kapoor, Zayn Malik, Robert Downey Jr, Deepika Padukone, Andrew Garfield, Angelina Jolie, Amitabh Bachan, Malala Yousafzai and Barack Obama star in a film directed by Farah Khan and Steven Speilberg where the insult “cantankerous lard” is used at a minimum of seven times.
- Somebody throws a “Doobapalooza” where, alongside cardboard cutouts of me, Jus Reign, after sorrowfully realizing that he’ll never get to marry me, proposes to Superwoman. This is what I wanted, Jasmeet.
- Can Norman Ali Khan lead my Janazah? pls mum.
- My belongings, from my One Direction What Makes You Beautiful and Take Me Home albums to my pantings, are donated to charity. Please, do not sell them on Amazon as “OFFICIALLY TOUCHED BY DURIBA KHAN” materials for over $10 million dollars. You’re better than that, sweetie.
- You guys are honest in my eulogy. I was not “the sweetest person you ever met”, or ‘such a proper and graceful woman”. I was an immature high schooler who laughed at farts, carried chocolate milk in my handbag, wore broken watches, and was scared of dogs. But I loved my life, and it loved me back.
- Somebody please occassionally log into my Twitter and post tweets concerning the current political situation with one Shakespearean insult per tweet. Who cares why? SHAKESPEAREAN INSULTS GUYS.
- Also, can we sprinkle coconut water alongside zam zam water when it’s all over? Replenishing and renewing, both do the (corpse??) body good.
- Don’t cry. PLEASE don’t cry. Crying gets boogers everywhere and wastes the earth’s resources (tissues) and energy and ugh its so 2005 omg. Whenever you think of me, buy yourself an ice cream cone. Who needs a juice cleanse when cookie dough crush-ins exist?
- Pray for me. As much of a amazing, responsible, intelligent, hilarious goddess I was, I made mistakes. I wanted crocs at one point. I thought badly about that girl who needs to put her foot in her mouth 788% of the time. I wore those hideous Hollister baby tees mercilessly at age 13. I even spilled black paint on my carpet once.
(I wrote this whole blog post for that line)