Certain death

It is. Death is certain. And when we all die (not all at once, obviously) we might hope that people talk about us (in a nice way). But what would they say? Have you ever thought about it? I have.
“
He was an alright bloke.
He was a moody bastard.
Weird boy - picked his nose a lot too.
He was always a bit podgy.
Nice looking boy. Very quiet though.
He never shut up. Always on about something.
Very thoughtful boy. I’ll miss him.
Etc, etc.
“
Maybe it’s because I’ll be thirty (30) years old in 3 days that I have posted this morbid blog. Maybe it’s because I realise it’s a good excuse to write down what I often think about anyway.
Whatever, my blogs are limited. There’s only so much you can do before your death. And at thirty the clock’s ticking quite a bit louder, it seems.

Pah.