day 21

I: I ask myself: How to say goodbye? To leave without saying words. But. I write, profusely. without the end at sight. I'll probably write till my last hour. I wonder what that last word will be. Our soundtrack played its last track. goodnight. I'm changing the CD.

They: ...

I: It's all in my imagination. It's all for their benefit. And so I tell myself each time. But we grow; we grow up, I suppose. We'll always find a theme song for an ending.

When I die, please playback Rachmaninov Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Movement 1 to 3. Don't speak an eulogy. Let your silence be the end; my end.
There will not be an epiphany. I'll go so quietly, you'll recognise my trace. As everyone has their own endings, we will be forgotten.

A toast to the health of our beloved!

I will not live irony right down to my end. There is no irony in death. That is the only exception I will make.

Instead, I beg you to close your eyes, switch off the lights if any. Close all the doors. Listen to the music, and we will come very close to be together, as if together, and you may for 34 minutes, peek into my world, hell and heaven; feel and touch me; imagine yourself standing with me and listen to the deepest secrets I have to offer to you. I will draw you, like never before, to birth, life and death. Don't cry, don't smile, don't have any emotion. If possible, just maintain that one thought in your mind as it comes to you, and in your own darkness, you will see what you have to see...light will naturally flow into you. No irony. I won't leave you alone. You are never alone.

They:...

I: Yes. Nothing is to be said and let me die peacefully. You will die your own peaceful death. That mask of death shall be all that is left as you make your own transitory journey. That is as quiet as we can get.

I say goodbye. Adieu. To God I commend us to Him.

I say goodbye. To the moment I am perpetually escaping from.

I say goodbye. To whom I trust the ending is subjective.

I say goodbye. To you.

I say goodbye. To performance. The epitome of anti-theatricality. So please don't theatricalise my death.

I say goodbye without saying goodbye. It is pure accident.

I say goodbye in a Pauline fashion. IT IS DONE!

Don't answer my prayers. Don't do anything more. Don't remember me. Don't find me a graveyard. Burn my dreadful flesh and release me from my mortality.








I will survive this.






I will survive this when I say, goodbye.

I truly love H.

goodbye.