Oh the thought of losing the hunting dogs over the prarie

Many times I have planned my death. And so many times they’ve been beautiful. Legendary. They’re the kind of death’s that will linger in the public’s mind… But will be forgotten by the media, after just a few short, ignorant weeks. I want the kind of death where they’ll show pictures, my death will be beautiful and public, so people will most definitely have to see it! And since it’ll be the only time they see me, it will be beautiful, which will make me beautiful…so I shall not worry about beauty, when it will come to me in the end. In the form of tragedy, shot in the head 3 times for good luck, in the public’s eye, midway through my 27th year of living, doing what I do best. And oh, twill be beautiful, most beautiful. And the funeral shall be beautiful… With all wearing white, considering all we do is wear black, so white seems most fitting. My coffin will be devilishly red, with the words “Not what you’re looking for” engraved on it… Then I shall be burned and tossed over some pointless piece of land. Which in the end was only pointless to me. Books will be written on me, I’ll be mentioned on websites and through schools…. And daring children, those who are curious enough to analyse who I once was, shall learn, grow and change from me and my living, and I shall once again be mourned… not for my death but for the line of work that I did and the beauty that I brought to the world. I will be a legend!