bury me where the wild things are

perhaps my soul is actually morbid, but I do spend an unclassified amount if time thinking about my own death.

not in a woeful way, or a wishing way, but a wondering way and a preparing way. 

you see, I want a party when I go out (hopefully I go out with a bang. but not from a gun. that would be rot). And what good host, for it will be my party after all, invites her friends over and doesn't actually have anything planned? 

So, I do actually have my funeral all planned out. 

but, lately, I've been thinking of graves. 

once, when I was younger, I thought I would not want a grave, but would like to be cremated and dumped out of an airplane. 

but that's actually fairly gross. 

so I've given up on that. 

I look at all these well kept graveyards, all these polished marble headstones, vases of fake poinsettias and gravel all laid on top with its nice little shiny stone bench, and think, "now what fun is that?" 

bury me in a place where ivy covers my headstone and age erases my name so that I may be a mystery. 

bury me where oak roots may hug me for centuries. 

bury me where no human goes unless they possess a bit of adventure in the soul. 

bury me in a place where wild things play.
bury me in a grave with an exotic head stone that breathes of mystery and something unknown and the silk that is death.

bury me in the wild, or bury me not at all. 

and you can't very well not bury me. 

that's worse than airplane dumping me. 

so it looks like I haven't left you much choice.

::my days have become increasingly busy and I apologise.  I am trying to finish my novel, The 100 Year Queen, before March, and I have also been employed as a nanny. Another thing is, I am attempting to get back on track reading wise. I've finished two books this week. I feel good about myself. I just have not had time to sit and write a proper post.  This morbid one was actually composed before november and I just never posted it and i know have dug it from the draft archive and render it to you.  so yes, fear not loves. I remain. busy and sleepy 80% of the time due to late nights and early mornings. but I still remain::