I am dead now. Please don’t cry too much.
A little will not kill you.
Crying is not what killed me.
Perhaps a lack of crying did it.
But really I mean it, don’t cry for me…
Instead, celebrate my death.
Maybe red balloons would be in order and a cake.
I loved yellow cake with chocolate frosting.
A little coconut with that never hurt anyone.
Have a party. Wear paper hats. Have a drink on me.
I was always a fan of red wine and salty margaritas.
Have a good laugh at my expense.
I was never good at formal jokes, but you know I could make you laugh….hard.
Remember how much fun we had together
whoever you are I know we had fun.
Sing songs about me.
You should know that in the shower I thought I was the next Whitney Houston.
Remember some of you, how we would randomly break out into song. Do that for me again. One more time.
In reality, I am just a song that is over.
If you never showed up in my life but are showing up at my funeral. Fuck you. Go back home.
I would like to leave my brain to Donald Trump, there is an instruction manual attached.
Use it you fool.
I am leaving my entire wardrobe to a small village in India.
I have enough clothes to clothe a small village.
I’m leaving my eyes for my blind father.
He’s the only one who really saw who I am.
My heart is for anyone, literally anyone who thinks that love is just a feeling.
My legs are for the man on the subway in New York who threatened to kill me because I sat in the Handicapped section. He was in a wheelchair with no legs. He can have mine, he got his wish, I’m dead.
And my spirit I leave to all of you.
My spirit has not died, I’m still here in this room.
Please know that I stand next to you
when you think of me or desire me to.
I’m your dead friend.
good bye for now only