Coming back to this blog feels like I can finally stop pretending to be this person that everyone else thinks I am, and be the person I really am. I hide a lot of who I am on social media to avoid inevitable arguments.

I’m participating in National Novel Writing Month next month, and my book’s topic is on death and afterlife. After I decided that topic, I read a couple of John Green books (the fault in our stars, looking for alaska) which are — surprise! — about death. It got me thinking about what people would say about me when I go.

Towards the end of The Fault In Our Stars, there is a scene where Augustus, the dying character, holds his own funeral with just his friends. They write him eulogies that encapsulate who he is, who he was, rather than who those who knew him least would picture him to be.

C might be the only person that knows me these days. The fact that I have no ideas about God after what seemed like a yearlong study of the existence of God, for example. The fact that I’m pretty sure kindness and love and helping others do not exist in the vacuum of a religion or a political party. The fact that art is pretty much the thing that drives my life, and my house is covered in it.

I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. No, maybe I’ll just live forever. But the honest truth is that this blog, like nothing else in my life, is my eulogy to myself. Like pieces of a puzzle that most people don’t read, won’t read, won’t ever know about. But I do. It’s my own game of Clue on the internet for when that day, far away, will come.

WordPress better survive the Zombie Apocalypse.