Bereave: (v) to be deprived of a loved one　

I’m a silly goose (even though I’m not quite sure why that bird got crippled with such a characterization).

I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but often I will be sitting alone and suddenly be overwhelmed with the remorse that will be felt by those around me at my passing.

I don’t know why I feel the right to project on them such a breakdown–but tears come to my eyes as I imagine them weeping over my demise.

Honestly, I cannot say that I get nearly as worked up about considering the death of another.

No, it is the absence of me on the planet that bereaves me.

I can’t imagine an Earth without my charming personality.

I’m reluctant to write this article, but having a certain anonymity due to the expansiveness of the Internet and my own obscurity … I assume I am fairly safe in maintaining this secret devotion to my own mortality.

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