User blog comment:Holly Bailey/Thing I'm Afraid Of/@comment-27905100-20170213152025/@comment-28266772-20170214092720

Well how you interpret the afterlife will probably influence your perception of a coming death. But I'm with Derpy, I'm not particularly afraid of death. If I die, I die. I don't want to, I'd rather not, and I'm not saying that if I was going to be bull-raped to death that I'd be like "whatevs bro, not scared". But I am saying that in my day-to-day life death is not a concern and when I think of dying at a ripe old age surrounded by a harem of hairless women men androgenous swiss pleasure bots I actually think, "yeah, alright, I'm cool with that."

Although other times I think about flipping my car on the way home from work while desperately needing a shit, and being found in the twinkling frozen fields of some farmer's crop the following morning, dangling upside down in the chair with a look of terror on my face and half-frosted shit that's dribbled down the back of my shirt and collar because, in my death throes, I lost control of my bowels and gravity did the rest.

I'd be super pissed if that's how I died.