I thought you were 95 
Probably crushed by badgers running for a shoe sale.
Or liver failure.
Falling off a cliff to my death while a bunch of topless women chase me.
Lung cancer.
Some young punk gangbanger will piss me off and I’ll be slaming his face into the hood of a car when his friend shoots me from behind.
(I try to remember this whenever I get the urge to confront one of them)
I’m about 90 and reaping the fruits of a long and successful writing career. I finally write the perfect fantasy story. It is so perfect that the act of writing it punches a hole in reality, and the monster in the story comes through and eats me alive.
In the crash of a small plane or helicopter into a jungle mountainside is the most likely. Or maybe wiped out by a bus or truck on a narrow mountain road.
Suicide, I hope. I don’t see myself having a quick death, but rather something lingering . . . especially Alzheimer’s, since it runs in my father’s side of the family. But I love my partner too much to stick around being a burden to him.
every time i see my dad he mentions that he’s going to kill himself in ~10 years. he says he can’t stand the thought of being feeble, and being a financial and psychological burden on anyone. he recently bought a handgun that he claims is for “protection” but I can’t help but think…
Leaping into an active volcano on a small tropical island.
I wasn’t judging. Honest. I just thought it seemed odd to predict that you will one day, at some indeterminate point far down the road, off yourself.
Maybe it’s because I consider suicide to be different from euthanasia, even when self-inflicted.
In fact, now that I think about it: I might die by my own hand, too. I take only semi-decent care of myself, so I could see myself getting lung cancer or something and starting that slow, inevitable decline. I think I’d off myself to prevent dying in agony, if that was the certain outcome.
But I still think that’s different from saying I will one day commit suicide.
Alone.
best guess: trip on cat(s) and fall down stairs
second guess: lose track of meds and accidentally OD
third guess: some random thing a la Dead Like Me
fourth: cancer (I’ve had 3 different kinds so far - 53 yr old)
Heart attack, probably mid to late fifties unless some miracle happens.
Death by snu-snu.
Most likely crushed to death underneath a few tons of cast iron…Since I didn’t support the tractor properly after jacking it up…then crawling under.
Ooops. That’ll suck. Hopefully quick, at least.
I’m thinking, wait NO
aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrggggh!!!
How YOU doin’?
Suicide by cop after committing a huge mass murder.