Saturday, 27 July 2013

Africa

I am in a place between lands, worlds, and people. I am not living in any one place, I am staying there. I am not homeless in the sense that I have no roof on my head; I am homeless in the sense that I have no home. I do not belong anywhere.

I search in other lands, with other people, changing them like outfits to see which one is just right. I am 20. I am young, and have plenty of time to search. Yet I am weary, and tired.

I found it once, and it was taken away from me.

The solution was easy; return to the motherland. By this I mean Africa. The origin of man. Sterkfontein. Let's start close to there and move onwards, find a home to have a child and die. This is life, isn't it? Spend a lifetime searching for something that you finally realise doesn't exist.
My belief is eternal. I will be an exception to the rule.

I am reluctant to join the life of a student. I am not a student, not anymore. Perhaps I can find a friend.

I just want to feel that earth in between my fingers and the heat of the dry sun on my skin and sit. I just want to be content and forget for a while.

That is it.

Friday, 5 July 2013

Are you still a nice guy, or have you become a bitter asshole?

So I've seen a lot of posts of 9gag, facebook, and other social networking sites about 'nice guys finish last' and 'omg wah I've been friendzoned.' I want to make a statement. There is a difference between genuinely nice guys, and nice guys who have turned into bitter assholes, and bitter assholes who are nice just to get tail.

Here's a quiz for you.

Girls only want good looking/rich guys.
a) true
b) false

A girl should 'give it up' to me because I am really really nice to her.
a) true
b) false

All nice guys finish last.
a) true
b) false

Good looking girls are bitches.
a) true
b) false

A girl is misleading me if she is nice to me and then rejects me, making her a bitch.
a) true
b) false

All girls are the same.
a) true
b) false

Girls are more likely to go for douchebag guys than nice guys.
a) true
b) false

If a girl sleeps with my best friend but not me, even though I am much nicer to her, she is a slut.
a) true
b) false

Girls are constantly looking for new men to be with, even if already in a relationship.
a) true
b) false

If a girl is nice to me, it should mean she wants me.
a) true
b) false

If a girl is not responding to me, she is a bitch.
a) true
b) false

If you answered true to more than 3 of these questions, congratulations, you are a bitter asshole.
Have you ever thought girls are not fuck machines that function with kindness coins? Have you ever thought maybe a girl is just not into you, the same way you're not into some other girl?

Fuck you.

Much love.






Sunday, 30 June 2013

How IB has fucked me over.

I've mentioned in a few blog posts a few years back that I was enrolled in the IB programme. Well, I managed to graduate with a decent 32 points, which to me was fair considering the amount of effort I didn't put in to my studies, meaning not that this is a low number, but that I personally could have done better. No matter, my point amount has never hindered me. IB has.

You see, I went to university for a bit. I quit because I had a premature mid-life crisis, thing. I got accepted into university with my diploma, and probably will again now that I am applying to UCT (what I mean is, if I don't get in, it won't be because my diploma is not good enough, but for other reasons). So for this, IB is all right. Generally, it is well known in academic spheres and sometimes even respected as what it really is; difficult.

So, let's jump to my first problem.
University in Finland. Universities in Finland do recognise the IB diploma, however I don't think they fully understand it. You see, the IB diploma consists generally of 6, maybe 7, subjects. In Finland, students go through a lot more than 6 courses in their 3 year "high school," so maybe they view this as inferior...especially since the level of education in Finland is pretty much the same as the IB. However, this isn't such a big deal because I don't reeeally want to go to uni in Finland anyway.

Now, my real problem is starting to be work. Since I am between jobs and not enrolled in school yet, I need work. This is already quite difficult, but is made even harder because let's face it, most people have no idea what IB is. To them, it could be a special needs programme. More than once I have been asked what it is, and my prospective employer has told me that "to be honest, I thought it was a special needs programme." I wonder how many jobs opportunities it's ruined for me when no one has actually asked me.

Finally, now that I have to apply for welfare since I can't get a job and am not enrolled in school, it is causing problems for me in that, again, no one knows what the fuck it is.  In my city there is one, tiny school that teaches the IB programme, and that only to a couple dozen students... so it's no wonder no one knows. But now, I've got all the officials wondering what it is and whether it is actually up to the standards of the 'normal' school system. And, since in the IB you can't specialise in a particular field, I don't get the bonus benefits of being "unemployed due to career circumstances."

I think the IB need to add a class that actually has some practical value in the real world. Instead of goddamn TOK, we need a class on life. By this I mean, how to deal with unemployment, how to get a job, how to move, how to do your taxes, how to deal with loss, something about law, basic human right and so on so forth. I mean, even if it was like 1 hour, once a month, a class like that would have really helped me out in my current situation. Now I feel like I really did go to a special needs school, since everyone around me (who went to normal school) was taught in school how to do most of these things.

Goddamnit IB.

Not everyone is a spoilt brat whose peachy life is planned out, and will be supported by their parents till they get their masters degree.




Maybe I am just shifting the blame, finding a scapegoat. But really, it has a small role, don't it?

Sunday, 23 June 2013

An introduction to geeky stuff for girls

DISCLAIMER:
Okay, so before I get angry comments below, let me clear something up. YES this post will be slightly sexist. YES this post will assume that some people did not spend their childhood in 'geekdom' but are enthusiastic about joining the fun later in life (no, that is not being a poseur). And YES I know there are girls who like geeky things, and may not particularly like what I mention here. So if you still insist on being nitpicky, fuck you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Without further ado, here are a few things you (as a girl, or a guy if you so wish) can get into if you wish to broaden your spectrum into the bright and nerdy, but don't feel like jumping right into 'all that stuff everyone keeps on talking about'.

Sailor Moon: You've probably heard of or watched Sailor Moon before. In a nutshell, it's an anime about a clumsy, obnoxious young girl who turns out to be a sort of superhero from the Moon Kingdom. Even though some parts are painfully obvious, it's actually a very entertaining show, plus it has pretty outfits, fun hair styles, and love dilemmas (even a talking cat!). Even better is that each episode is about 20 minutes long, so it's pretty fast paced. I really recommend Sailor Moon if you want to get into anime. It's a gateway anime.(Yes, I am hilarious). Direction: anime, cosplay (easy, and pretty cosplay)

Pokemon: Pokemon can be a bit hard to get into for girls, and I think the main reason for this is that so many of the main characters are boys (until Misty comes along). As a child I loved watching Pokemon, but now when I watch the episodes again, although entertaining, they can get a bit repetitive. I do recommend it, at least the movies (especially the first 3). But Pokemon, luckily, is not just a show and movies. The best part of it are the games. So get yourself a GameBoy or Nintendo DS and buy a Pokemon game. They're easy to get a hang of and extremely entertaining, you find yourself playing for hours at a time. If you want to hit 2 birds with one stone, you can play the Pokemon game on Nintendo 64, though you run through it much faster. Direction: anime, gaming

Superhero movies: By this, of course, I mean all the Marvel and DC superheroes (for those who don't know: Iron Man, Hulk, Thor, Batman, etc.). The movies are actually all quite entertaining, and at least for me, got me interested in checking out the comic books (I didn't finish more than 3, but they got me interested!). If you want, you can also check out their older versions and compare the actors (personally, I found the older ones quite tedious). However, this is personal. The new movies though are action packed with a lot of attractive people, so you won't get bored... unless you don't like superheroes. HA, preposterous. Direction: superheroes, possibly comics

Harry Potter: Let's be honest, if you haven't seen or read Harry Potter by now, you most likely won't be into it. In this case I recommend you take another direction with your geekdom. But there is a possibility you never got the chance, or you remember seeing it sometime when you were young. You should revisit it, and if you like it, take a gander at the books. They're vastly entertaining, not to mention well written. Unfortunately you've missed the golden period of speculation between the book releases (who will love who? Who is evil?), but it's still worth a try. Like Sailor Moon, Harry Potter is a gateway to other magical worlds like Game of Thrones, and anything by Tolkien. Direction: magic, fantasy

Ragnarok Online 2: If you're into magical kingdoms and gaming by now, it's time to introduce RO2. A lot of people I've spoken to say that RO2 reminds them of World of Warcraft. Now I, personally, have never played WoW, nor do I intend to. But if you're looking to go into that direction, RO2 can be good for you. It's actually a simple role playing game, where you can if you want, play alongside other people, or by yourself. I, for example, am a magician and a blacksmith. You get to find pretty outfits and weapons, and fight against some (actually pretty cute) little creatures to gain combat and job points. The graphics and colours are wonderful, and there are no ugly monsters or gross scenes (at least so far for me). Plus, it's free! Direction: gaming

Okay, that's all from me for now. Once again, if you're feeling peevish, read my disclaimer please, because if your complaint falls under those categories, I will delete it. Fuck freedom of speech, ha.
If you have any questions or want more recommendations, I can help you to a certain extent. I'm no connoisseur, I am just dipping my foot in a very large pool.

Saturday, 15 June 2013

People who are hated at airports/aeroplanes

I thought it would be time for one of my rare but fun rants about arseholes all over the world. I recently moved to Finland, and so the experience is fresh in my memory.
So let's talk about people who are hated at airports.  

THE SAUSAGERS
You know the zigzag line to the border control and security? You know how every person has to unload their bags, take off their shoes, and go through the metal detector? You know how the security officers wait at least 15-20 seconds before letting the next person through? Obviously, if you've ever been to an airport you will know this. So, the closer everyone lines up, it does not make it happen any faster. Yet somehow, the people (I call them the Sausagers) insist on practically smelling my shampoo when in the line. I can feel the body heat from you- now that's way too fucking close. Keep it an arms length, then you have time to run the extra metre if you absolutely have to (but you fucking won't because you have to wait and get your goddamn shit in your little fucking basket). Rule is, if you can smell my hair and I can feel the heat from your crotch...too fucking close! Asshole scale: 7/10

THE PISSERS
Okay, so now you're in the plane. I personally always choose the window seat because I only use the bathroom on extremely long flights, and I know I won't need to climb over anyone. Sometimes though, all the window seats are taken and I must sit either in the middle or in the aisle seat. Everyone hates the middle seat so we won't even discuss that. I don't mind the aisle seat either, I get to get out first. But when I am in the aisle or middle seat, and the asshole who took the window seat needs to go to the bathroom every 20 minutes, I get pissed off. That could have been my seat, and you could've gone to the bathroom 20 times in 20 minutes if you wanted! However, no, you want to look out of the window for the first 7.5 minutes and then piss me off for the rest of the flight. Take the aisle seat, pisser. Asshole scale: 9.5/10
There is also the junior variation of this, when parents stick their kids in the window seat, and the kids scream AND need to run off every few minutes. Asshole scale: 10/10

THE BUSINESS ASSHOLE
This is the guy who is constantly on the phone, powerwalking around the airport with his little wheeled luggage, and this "I am so important" look on his face. This is the guy who will ram into you with his wheels while you're taking a leisurely stroll down terminal 1, and then glare at you because he hates his life. Listen fuckhead, unless they are announcing your name "Fuckface, the plane is now waiting for you please report to gate 23," you have no reason to be strutting your misery all over us. Go sit in a bar, shout at your employee there, have a beer, chill out. Hate your wife and boss, not the rest of us. Fuck you. Asshole scale: 4/10

THE INTRUDER
Finally, the intruder. This is the guy who sleeps on your side! You know what I mean. You're watching a film, or reading your book, and sometimes even eating, and you start feeling a pressure on one of your sides. No, you're not having a heartattack. It's the idiot next to you who fell asleep and is now leaning on you. You can't really push them away, what if they wake up? Then you're an asshole and they feel embarrassed. You can't wake them up either, same reason. I always just exaggerate myself, and lean all the way to one side, so when they wake up, they feel shit and won't fall asleep again. Asshole scale: 6/10

Well that's my biggest hates for now. If you know any more, please let me know and I will add them to the list! Over.

Thursday, 13 June 2013

Keeping up with the Backstabbers

Sorry for the lack of normal posts. in the meantime, read the story. I'll get back on this shit tomorrow!

READ ME! Backstabber Extracts (begins at the bottom)

Tuesday, 28 May 2013

An itch I can't scratch

This country has nothing more to offer me. It has run me dry, and is now causing me to begin fucking up the few relationships I have here that I treasure.
Being not homeless, but yet homeless, means I need to stay at friend's houses. The rules are different in every household, and lines that are in different places. It is completely possible to cross that line, or break a rule, without really realising. I just get a gut feeling when I'm doing something, saying hmm, maybe this won't be accepted. In my idiocy I ignore that feeling, calling myself paranoid.
I mean, it's not a massive deal. I understood, I was understood, no harm done now. Yet, I cannot help feeling selfish and humiliated and this nagging feeling won't let me be. Perhaps it is good that I am moving to Finland, I will live with family and I've known the rules for the last 20 years. God, this feeling is like an itch you can't scratch.

I am petrified that their opinion of me has changed. This must be ridiculous.

I am trying to scratch but I just can't reach it.

Aargh.

Thursday, 23 May 2013

The Return of the Backstabber Extracts

I know that the only good thing I've ever written is the Backstabber Extracts, and so due to feelings of inadequacy I'm going to bring it back.

However, I will do it differently. I am going to open a new blog dedicated to the Backstabber Extracts, but I will release each part separately, and of course, edited into something better.

Thanks to all the fans, I hope you will stay tuned for the rest of the Backstabbers!

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

It isn't that open-minded here either.

I've been contemplating some things. First I need to blatantly make some things clear.
I am a "citizen of the world." I've lived in many many many countries. I've met many people, and many cultures, and many philosophies.
I am, in a non-traditional sense, a widow. I have loved and been blissfully, ignorantly, truly happy, and then been crushed down and felt like not living.

I am now living in a small sub-town right outside of Rotterdam, a place with a couple bars, shops, and plenty of people. I've noticed that even though the Dutch are considered open minded and free spirited, very few actually are. Over here, I get looked down on every single day because I speak English, I drink on week days and/or before 5 o clock, because I have fun and sing and dance, because I randomly help people who seem to not know what they're doing...
I don't mind it, in fact I could not care less. They're missing out.
But I'm also missing out. I'm missing out the people who join you when you have a drink. I miss the people who see you dance and dance too, or sing along when you sing. I miss "thank you" and "you're welcome."

I don't mind people staring at me because they finally see me dance or hug or kiss someone new. But I mind when they mind.

I only have this one life, and it may end tomorrow or the day after. I won't waste today thinking if the woman next to me is judging me as an immigrant because she heard me say "thank you" in English. Or if that girl is looking at me dirty because my dancing may be a bit out there.

So why do the rest of them have time to think about those things?
Why do they let it bother them?

Why do you?

Monday, 20 May 2013

To my generation of poets

It's so normal to hear a poem called beautiful. You read of such great trees, and of true love, and misery. You read of world hunger and wars ruining our lives. But your rhymes, what do they mean? It's all just aesthetics, some makeup to look nice, some guilt-driven faux-concern for the environment and the being.

We weren't born into this age, we're here to create it. We're not here to be told what to do, we're here to make a choice. We're not here to expand the boundaries, we're here to blow them up.

We're not here to think inside or outside the box, we're here to burn it down. We're here to take it outside the lines, to create shock waves so tremendous they'll be talked about decades from now.

We're falling into an age of no meaning. Let's dig down deep into the black ocean floor where they'll tell us it's too much, it's too profound.

It's not too deep. Take up a torch and shine it down below and you'll see the details, you'll see where we come from. You just have to get up and find that light that penetrates the darkness.

So take charge my fellow poets, writers, singers, painters, and forget the rules. Don't be confined by grammar, spelling, rules of colour or what's appropriate. We're past appropriate, we're past bad taste. We need to deliver our message by any means we can. Don't get stuck on topics that aren't yours just to get ahead. If that's the life then I'm not looking to live it. I won't write of popular themes that lead to empty oohs and aahs, my guilt would kill me before anything else would get the chance.

Write of love, of war, of hunger, of violence. Write of strawberries, of hats, of cigarettes, of dentist trips. But when you do, mean it.

Take the reigns and make your way through the woods, step past rock and stick and walk around the trees until you get to where you need to be. Until you can say what you need to say.

Then say it so it's respected.

Friday, 17 May 2013

When a man loves a woman, can a woman still love herself?

I have recently began watering my love life. Not vigorously, perhaps as much as you would water a cactus. I've had quite a bit of criticism for it though, well not straight out criticism. God forbid I get offended. My motives have been questioned though.
This guy I find cute, let's name him Dante, has questioned my motives.

Do I like him (a little) because I'm lonely? For a while I thought maybe that was it. However, I've had several advances while I've been feeling like this, and I did not take the bait. Women, you do not need a man just because you are lonely. If you're lonely, all you need is some wine, your girlfriends, or if you're alone, some tickling the skittle. I only want men when I like them.

Okay, so do I think I like him (a little) because I'm having a premature mid-life crisis and feel like I need to bang out my life (literally)? Maybe! I admit I am having a premature mid-life crisis, but that has to do more with drinking at 1pm, dancing where there's no business dancing, telling rude people off, being nice to people who deserve it, and eating what I want, when I want. Not sex. No. That's... not my comfort zone, even though I'm all for breaking out of the comfort zone. It's a complex situation.

Actually no, it's quite simple. I'm not ready for intimacy. I'm ready for jokes and what-not.

Returning to the point at hand, and to the title of this post, "when a man loves a woman, can a woman still love herself?"
At what point are you beginning to please a man to make yourself happier? Is it when you make an excuse for why you are drinking at 1pm, instead of just because you want to. Is it when you pretend you haven't seen a movie just so he can tell you about it?
What's the line?
When do you stop loving yourself, in order to make him like you more?

Tuesday, 7 May 2013

Carry Me

I'm going to move to South Africa. Latest 15th January 2014. That's the plan. I'm going for it, jumping into the void. I've been there before, but not in Cape Town, not by myself, and not studying something I like. My system needs a shock. Time is slipping on, and I'm still in the same place doing the same thing, or in fact doing nothing.

It's not working.

And even though now I'm recovered, to an extent, all this has left a big dark bruise that's like a brown spot of rot on an apple that goes through to the core. Every time I get pushed back in what I want to do, it's like someone is picking at that bruise. Ha, you can't ever be happy now, they say. But they don't know, I'm more than capable of being happy. You can't throw anything at me that will hurt. Just don't take what I still have left. And it's not much, but it's all I need for happiness.

So hopefully I will get accepted into the University of Cape Town. That's the only thing moving me forward now. I'm doing my best, I've never wanted something this much... well if I have, it hasn't been for a long time.

I thought I would die, but look at me here... living and shit.

But I could not have done it without certain people. Of course, my father, who has a great mind and an even greater heart. Someone who has been hurt over and over and screwed over for no reason, yet he still waits for the good that is surely to come. He still believes; he still has hope. He is my hero.
And then Mo, a beautiful person who will never leave anyone who is in need of help. I sometimes he is afraid of love and pain, but he cannot stand the idea of someone having a hard time if he can help them. He is the one who gave me a place to stay when everything fell apart. Gave me food and a bed and such.
Then there's Saskia. She is as close to a sister as I've ever had. She is the other part to Mo. She hasn't had it easy, and she won't always help someone... but she loves hard, and won't leave those she loves. I also owe shelter and food to her and her family.

That there, that is gold. 

Monday, 6 May 2013

BABY'S ON FIRE

I've been speaking to a friend, or I should say sister from another mister, today. I love her to bits. She really is like the sister I never had. Our personalities clash like the titans, but somehow our morals and ethics and all that fun stuff are equal. We know where we stand. She knows I like maths and art and fantasy and crap, and while she likes fashion and music and beauty, we are the same. The same pea from a different pod.

 Anyway, as I was saying... I was speaking with S (I'll name her S), and she had this thing, it was her thing, it was her thing that paralyzes her the same way that Josh does for me. Her thing was an abusive, mentally and physically, boyfriend. She has had a hard time accepting someone in her life, and despite the short time it has taken her to friend someone new, I don't judge her. I know how hard it has been for her and I really admire her. I love her for her ability to accept someone new after being through something so shit. I was there, I know it wasn't your typical "meh" attitude to your boyfriend or girlfriend. This was hard shit. Niet zo lekker.
 
I guess I'm avoiding the subject. 

I can't go through this whole business of dates, sex, not-sure-how-I/you-feel-about-you/me...stuff. I don't want to do that. I know how intimidating it is to hear from a girl straight off, no pretense whatsoever, "DUDE, I wanna fall in love, if you don't believe me... bugger off"

I hate to say this, but I'm goddamn lonely. I want to love, and I want to feel, kiss, and all this other stuff. But I know I can't skip steps 1, 2, 3 and 4 and go straight to the good stuff. But but but I hate the thoughts, you know when you're 16 and you're wondering if your crush likes you? I don't wanna do that. Fuck you. Do you like me? No? Cool. Yeah? Cool, let's bang. I'm joking, but that's pretty much how it goes with me. It will be bloody fucking hard to find someone who won't be intimidated by someone who wants to fall in love.

Man you know my past, what else did you expect?
Screw you all, I will lay the baggage out first time I meet you. If you feel like you can't or don't want to lift it then we are both wasting our time.

So that's my problem.

But I'm lonely. I want someone to love. Everyone is loving.

I'm glad my loss of love creating some relationships. I know it has. People told me it has. It makes me proud, but doesn't make me feel better.


Saturday, 4 May 2013

SO--

So I met this guy. It was this past week, on Queen's Night/King's Day here in Holland. We'll call him Louis. That's not his real name, or even close, but it'll be safe to call him that since well... no one knows anyway. So Louis and I got a long... he sort of, got me. Or pretended to anyway, I don't know. But because I already fell in love, began a life, and lost it, I don't deal in bullshit, or one night things, or whatever...I decided to like him, and I did, he was nice and fun. There's nothing wrong with wanting nothing more.

But there is for me, in a way. I feel like a fool. And the truth that I knew all along is settling in with me even harder. It will be very, very hard for me to find someone who can understand what I want, and not be scared of it. I've done the whole dating thing, one night stand thing, one week thing, and two week thing, and I don't need to do it again. I don't want someone who wants 'something casual'. I don't want 'something casual'. I want something real, I want a connection. I realise now how hard it is for people when they hear that straight away.

It's scary.

It's even scarier for me.

To know I will most likely go through this dozens of times. Even one is eating at me.

I need someone who also lost their moon and stars.

Friday, 26 April 2013

Not interested

You know, I'm more interesting than people think I am. The biggest problem is, I'm not beautiful. I'm okay, I'm pretty enough to glance at, and perhaps to approach in a bar at the end of the night. I'm amiable enough to ask directions from, and then from the way I act, people stand around and speak to me for a while.

Those things that happen, whatever they may be, and at the time you think "I really don't want to talk about this"... to be honest, you probably won't get a chance to. No one asks. After a while you want to talk about it, because at the surface you seem like an average middle-class kid whose going through an identity crisis. But it's not that. I've felt shit.

Thing is, if you begin to talk about it, you seem like you want the attention... which perhaps you do. However you also don't want to put people in an awkward position, where all they can say is "Oh shame, I'm sorry" or "Oh. Yeah" or "That's great". They have no idea what you're talking about.

Yet, even worse than that is your friends, or people who you think know you. When they hear a story and they say "wow". That pisses me off. Because, did you really think I was such a shallow piece of shit? Did you think I lived here, moved there once, graduated, went to university, dropped out because I didn't like it, and now I'm here? I've had a life. If you know me you wouldn't be surprised by the stories I tell. Perhaps amused. Perhaps let-down. Whatever, but not surprised.

I never get a chance though. Strangers don't ask me. They ask my beautiful friend, or don't bother at all. My friends don't ask me, they don't think about those things. I do, simply because I want someone to ask me. But perhaps they think I'm intruding. I don't know.

I may not be interesting, but I know shit. I can talk about shit. I have had a very interesting life. Maybe I'm just not interesting.

Tuesday, 19 March 2013

The Diary of a Relatively Newly Depressed Nutcase

I keep on pushing people away from me. Isolation. Except for three or four good friends, who I keep close because I can't imagine parting from them. I used to think that was because I didn't want to care about people. I used to think it was because I'm selfish and I didn't want to spend time on people- I was already spending enough time with the friends I had.
Then I thought it was because I couldn't bare to lose anyone else. You know, the more people you care about the more likely it is you'll lose more of them as well. If one in ten dies; if you have twenty friends, you could lose two. I guess that's partly true. However today I've realised another reason for that.

And this one is the most selfish of all.

When Josh passed away, when I lost the person who was most important to me, I saw 50-75 people who were outraged and sad. 20 or so who were devastated, and at least 11 whose lives literally stopped and began a warped, fucked up spiral up and down and sideways, a sort of constant never-changing state of chaos and confusion and anger and all-round-fuckery. At least 1 of them, I, can be considered depressed, relatively alone, and certifiably insane.
Anyway, I don't want that to happen to anyone. When I die, and I'm not saying it will be soon, but when I die I want to minimize the amount of people who will be devastated. Just my family- father, brothers- and those three or four friends. And because there are so few of them, no one will be left to go through that alone.

See, I told you it was selfish.