These days, thoughts like these come up now and then:
If one day I die in my studio apartment, how long will it take for my body to be found?
Someday after my parents have passed, if I happen to die, how will my body be handled?
Somehow, at forty,
I've started thinking about self-funerals.
Somewhere along the way,
I started worrying more about dying well than about living well.
Given a daily life where, since last year, I've been studying so-called cutting-edge IT fields — AI, blockchain, NFTs, metaverse — completing courses, getting certifications, even putting it all to practical use at work, the thoughts that have been surfacing lately are surprisingly? numbing? — so I'm leaving a few lines here.
Just — so it goes.
Oh, poof —
