Incase I died but I didn’t.

Last week I had an operation on my neck and I thought I was going to die. I didn’t. But I am 1 1/4 inches taller. (note the line about not living through another Tory government)

Dear all,
I feel like I have to begin with something like “If you’re reading this, I’m dead” or something very cliché along those lines, or something less cliché but a bit more pretentious. “Oh woe, I have but karked it”. Or I don’t know, something else. But I think you’ve probably got the point. I believe this is the sort of letter where I’m supposed to be meaningful and delicate and sew some seeds of wisdom and poetic death wishes but since I’m already dead I don’t think we should be under any illusions that I was anything other than self centred, outspoken and inappropriate at the best of times. *And beautiful and amazing and talented and a funny funny bitch – yeah its arrogant, what of it, I’m dead I can say what I want

I suppose I just wanted to write you all a letter to say thanks. I was going to write lots of separate letters to individuals but I sort of lost interest and no doubt would have not written one to someone who would get really offended and not turn up to my funeral.

Which reminds me, thank you all so much for being here/ look at the thousands of people who have traveled all the way here (the bars not free you know you stingey bastards)/ you really didn’t need to sacrifice that goat/looks like [insert person] couldn’t make the effort to come then [delete as appropriate].

I hope I’m not being arrogant here but I have a feeling one or 2 of you may be a little bit sad. So I just wanted to remind you that I had a great life. A fucking great one. And you were all there. You were all there making me laugh, bringing me flowers when I cried, learning dance moves to Kate Bush songs, letting me be little spoon, partying with me in hospitals across the world, singing songs at the top our lungs, falling in love so hard that we couldn’t breathe, making me do my dinosaur impression. I honestly don’t think I’d change a thing. Even this bit. Even the death bit. Despite it being in a sort of mundane and not very interesting way. Because if you think about it, I’ll never have to pay for another train fare. I’ll never have to fill in another Arts Council Evaluation. I’ll never have a hangover. Or have the shits. I’ll never have to live through another tory government or a Fast and Furious sequel. I’ll never forget to do my washing for so long that I have to wear bikini bottoms because I’ve run out of pants. I’ll never get an infected in growing toenail. Or have to watch an ex get married. Or over stew tea. Or get some really horrid disease that makes my eyes fall out. I’ll never have to pay council tax again. I’ll never break another heart, or have mine broken. Or be in pain. Or suffer. Or watch someone else suffer.

So really. What I’m trying to say is. Its ok you know. I’m ok with this. Don’t go away thinking “ she died before her time” or “she had so much potential” or anything like that because I have had a wonderful life. And I’ve done everything I wanted to do, and you’ve all shared it with me. And for that, you deserve to let go. Like I have.

And if, after some time you want to find a moment to think about me, and remember the times we had, let it be when you are urinating and its burning. Like a Pavlov’s dog sort of thing. And perhaps then you will remember me how I would like to be remembered, by making you smile in one of life’s nessecary but incredibly uncomfortable moments.

With all my love, respect and admiration

Josephine
Jaj
Jojo
Bobo
Jo
Joey
Josie
Douglas
Jojo D Mc Mc
Poochie
Joy
Wingnut
Dophie
Dickhead
Josephine

*I took that line out when I didn’t die, but I thought I should put it back in.

Advertisements

One thought on “Incase I died but I didn’t.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s