Avant garde, no?

I woke up at 7am this morning.

I then went back to sleep until 7.30.

Then I got up.

I shaved.

I put on a shirt, and some pants.

I put on my jacket.

I had breakfast.

I brushed my teeth.

I drove to the church, and got a little lost on the way, but found it eventually.

I went inside.

There was a service.

Funerals always get to me... besides all the emotion involved in losing a loved one, for me they're a reminder of my own mortality.

Let's face it, can anyone imagine me making it to 30? I certainly can't comprehend it, but c'est la vie.

That's not really it, though... It's all just really sad.

When I go, I want it to be a jublilant thing, you know. . I suppose when you're actually in the ground, it doesn't really matter to you one way or the other... I don't know...

I came home.

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