Not What He Would've Wanted

I’ve been trying to keep a diary consistent for months now, but my days are so mind numbingly fucking boring these days, I’ve had nothing to write about, I’ve not gone out in a while, I’ve just been sitting, eating and watching cheap, shitty horror films. I mean, fucking hell, I even wrote what films I watched for the past couple of days, but it dawned upon me today that my future generations are most likely going to read that, they’ll instantly think I’m some fat fucking slob, which I’m not. Sure, I’m being lazy in recent days but I am really not fat at all, I know that but it’ll be how I’m remembered. A man can watch lots of films and no one will think anything but when you’re female and a bit of a film fanatic, people think you’re a lazy waste of space. Ugh, I turn off this shitty Romero rip-off that was on the TV. The thought of how I’ll be remembered is really getting on my tits now. I go into the kitchen and open the second draw, I grab a powerful lighter used for the gas cooker I used to have, but seeing as I don’t own one, I’ll use it for whatever the fuck I like now. I run upstairs, put the lighter down, and grab the metal bin in the bathroom that I never use. The only thing in it is an apple core, rotting one at that. I grab the apple carefully by the stalk, and throw it out of the window, I linger to see if it lands in next doors garden, it does, at least one thing has gone right today, I hate that fat fucking cunt, whenever I’m cooking or doing the washing up, he shamelessly and gormlessly fucking stares, one of the most irritating things imaginable, trust me. Anyway, I’ve picked the bin back up by that point and I go into my room and pick up this A4 lined paper booklet aka my diary from the foot-end of my bed. I drop it into the bin and, you’ve probably guessed by now, burned it. I feel better, then an overwhelming confused frown overtakes my face, oh shit, I forgot there’s important essay notes in the back of that fucking thing, I try to hold the bin but the fire’s big now and that bin conducts the heat swiftly into my fingertips. “Agh, ya fucking bastard!”. I almost boot the bin as hard as I can but I realise that’s a stupid idea, considering I’m not overly keen on the idea of burning my house down, I stop and give it this piss-weak nudge, I feel pathetic now, I really do. Fucking hell.
It’s a few hours later and the house reeks of smoke, I’m too pissed off to watch TV, yet too bored to resist it. The phone rings. I actually think ‘wow’, I’m glad to hear a phone ring and then not realising that it’s for some head police officer to be informed that the dead have escaped from the graveyard. It’s John’s name on the caller identity, I’m really pleased, I think there’s a potential thing going on between him and me, I like him, I hope he likes me, he’s definitely one of my best friends. “Hiya.” My gleeful smile wipes off my face, it’s his sister speaking, I don’t really get on with her. “Oh… I see… right… yes, I know... I will… thank you f-…thank you for informing me. Bye.” Oh dear. Killed in a fucking motorcycling accident. I cry the most deserved cry of anyone in years.
“John, he was a great man and he played by his own fucking rules. But they were sensible rules. He was an adult.”, “Yeah, and he always did what was best for other people, he wasn’t all about himself.” My conversations with similar friends of a friend have reassured me that I’m not a complete moron, socially, then again, John is probably the only thing they’d have in common with me.
“We are gathered here today in this service to pay our respects to John Browne. Today for the comfort and hope we need let us turn our thoughts to the love of God. He cares for us even when we do not deserve to be cared for. For in the midst of such sorrow we must lean upon God.” Hang on, what the fuck’s up here, I look around, there’s quite a few pissed off faces, I look at his sister, she’s smiling, the fucking cunt, I knew she organised the funeral but John was an atheist. A fucking atheist! He’d be pained to hear this utter drivel this fuckhead’s churning out of his gob. “The words that seem the most appropriate today are those of the great Apostle Paul, who said as he came to the end of his life, I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. Paul left this world a better place than he found it. He had been faithful to his God and now prepared to go for his reward.” I’ve had enough of this, I really have, this is an insulting and generic speech, it’s the equivalent of something along the lines of ‘Do you want to save the changes you made to ‘Untitled Funeral’?’ ‘No.’ “Hang on a second, can I just intervene here” the priest doesn’t answer, but he stops talking shit and looks at me. “I’ve looked around, and I’ve seen quite a few pissed off faces.” I hear a couple of gasps, I want to say ‘oh, fuck you.’ but I’d better not. “And when I look at Dianne; John’s sister, I see her smiling, the fucking cunt.” Quite a lot of gasps there, I’m more understandable of those gasps, as I didn’t even expect that. “I knew she organised the funeral but John was an atheist. A fucking atheist! He’d be pained to hear this utter drivel this fuckhead’s churning out of his gob. It’s an insulting and generic speech, and it’s the equivalent of something along the lines of ‘Do you want to save the changes you made to ‘Untitled Funeral’?’ ‘No.’” Laughter, of his close friends, and disgust of his relatives. “Now how about his real friends come with me and celebrate the life of a fantastic man, the way we know best, to the fucking pub!” Loud cheers, I feel like crying tears of joy, but it’s not really that type of crowd.
“To John, a brilliant person.”, “John!” As I sip my pint, I wonder whether John would be proud of what I said, I mean after all, we severely pissed off his family, I guess I’ll never know who’s side he’d take, but it doesn’t really matter because fuck it, I made some friends. “Hey, who’s for going to my place and watching a film called 'Spaceship Of The Living Dead'?” Confused but willing glances from everyone, most tag along. We had a great time and the men of the group enjoyed the seemingly endless female nudity, while that was happening, a sense of epic pride overtook my mind, I felt like dramatic music should've been playing as if I'm in a film. On the subject of films, 'Spaceship Of The Living Dead' was pure fucking shite.