Death Becomes Me
Not that I would ever have a grave, (I am 100% for cremation. I want to be blended with my Bauddha, and thrown equals parts in N.H, at our spot. Then, scraps of me are given to each of the people I love to put in a meaningful place.
One day I asked my friend Jay what he would do with me. He said he'd keep part of me and then bury the rest at Cleopatra's Needle in Central Park, where we first bonded, when I was itching to get into his Clue group that met there every other Sunday to play Clue. I love Clue. It's my favorite. When I was 11, and I played it at a friend's house, it made me soooo happy, I'd almost classify it as my first high. One hit was all it took. Subsequent birthday money went right to getting my own. I wrote," K.T. was here, 986 B.C. (sarcasm)," inside the box in that totally curvy tween way of writing. Sad thing was nobody was into it, so I hardly had anyone to play with and when I did, they sucked. Then, I met JAY, someone who makes me eternally happy! (If Clue where an Olympic event, he'd be the captain.))
Anyway, back to the point. Earlier, killing time perusing SkyMall (love), I saw this. If I ever had a grave, I'd want my tombstone to look like this, but with my likeness, placed randomly on my plot and instead of my birth to death date, it would just have my name and Scorpio in small letters somewhere inconspicuous and tasteful.