When I Die

And when I die, feel free to get high at my funeral. It's what I would have wanted. 

Get drunk, get messy, get emotional and shout in the void with the hope of me hearing you.

Shout all the things you loved about me, and all the ones you didn't.

Shout the things that remind you of me.

Shout your regrets.

Shout your sadness.

So that all that sorrow is released into the void, where I belong. And you be free of something called melancholy.

So that you don't be how I was.

When I died.