And does everyone want to die quickly? Who would want to die slowly? Does everyone want to die in their sleep…I suppose that would be my preferred method, after a long, healthy, and productive life, just fall asleep one night and drift away.
There’s always the hackneyed “right after orgasm” scenario. But since I tend to really like the person I am doing this with, I wouldn’t wish that on my partner.
Then there’s the people who believe in the Rapture…but I don’t think that is technically dying.
A brain aneurism going off while on a really scary roller coaster? That would be sudden & would make for a good story.
Or doing something heroic, like pulling a family of six and their dog out of a burning house before expiring. Going out in a blaze of glory, as it were.
If you could choose, what would be your preferred method?
This may seem a little self-serving (okay, a lot self-serving) but I’d like the world to come to an end. That way even when you go to Heaven (or not), you’ll have a story that most of the others wouldn’t have.
Sure my story’ll be roughly the same as another 3 billion people, but I’d like to think I could make mine funnier. I mean, geez, just look at my life - my love life alone should count as a comedy…
After being with both parents while they suffered long and painful deaths, I just want to have a night of wild sex, and go to sleep happy, never waking up. Long dramatic deaths are definitely not my thing.
I quite like the idea of exploding into a gazillion peices, showering everyone around me with gooey little pieces of flesh, can you imagine the looks of surprise and horror on their faces?
Blissful suicide. At some point, hopefully in the distant future, there’ll come a time, due to disease or whatever, that life will become unbearable. I’ll need a few days to get things in order (burn the porn collection, etc.) and choose my method of exit. Why should I leave the time and method of such an important event up to other people, or random chance? I guess it’s the ultimate control freak in me.
And, yes, I want to still be active enough to really live it up in those last few days.
After I’ve lived a long, full life, I’m going to put on scrubs and a surgical mask and spend all day walking in and out of poorly-guarded abortion clinics. With any luck, some lunatic will be there to shoot me in the name of the pro-life movement. Nothing like going out in a blaze of irony.
Not necessarily the same way that Owen Meany did, but something along those lines: dying while saving another person’s life or the lives of others seems less unappealing to me than the slow and painful method that most likely awaits.
Related: if you could know when, where, and how you were going to die, would you want to know? I wouldn’t.
I have always wanted to go out in a bursting bolt of lightning. It’s classy and final, and can you imagine your last thought be about the streamers and arcs crawling all around you?
I’ve always wanted to be shot in the heart. They say you have a good 10 seconds of consciousness after it happens, and since dying is something I’ll only get to do once, I’d like to have a little time to savor the experience–but not so long that the pain gets tiresome. Plus, it leaves a pretty tidy corpse, and I don’t want to make a mess for those who are left behind.
A friend had his perfect suicide planned all out. The key players:[ul]~1000 ft. of straight road, with a stout tree at one end and something immobile at the other (wall, bridge abutment, etc.)
~990 feet of rope
a convertible, motorcycle, or car with the rear windshield smashed out
a handgun[/ul]
Anyone see where this is headed? Tie rope to tree, and around neck. Board vehicle (ensure safety devices are de-activated/unused). Place business end of handgun against temple. Accelerate rapidly towards far end of road. Right before arriving, pull trigger. If you miss, rope will still jerk your head clean off. If your knots slip, the crash should still take you out. Nothing like a little - heh heh - “overkill.”
After living a long and productive life, becoming successful in the racing business, marrying a wonderful man and raising some lovely children, seeing the babies happily married and meeting my first grandchildren, at the age of 55 to 65 while I am still active enough to do so, I would buy or rent an open-cockpit Indy-racing car and go to a test session at California Motor Speedway in Fontana. At a certain corner, I would accelerate to full speed far too quickly and jerk the wheel so as to go off the road and flip, causing the car to roll over until it strikes the inside retaining wall cockpit-first, killing me instantly through head injuries as the car flies to pieces around me. Hopefully the car will then catch on fire.
