Keep the party going. I want dance music to be played at my funeral. I want everyone to eat well, and drink even better. I want people to light sparklers and bottle rockets off my funeral pyre. I want to glow in the dark, to shoot screaming high into the sky at the trembling hands of my friends. I want them to forget everything for a moment but the taste of clean, cold fruit in their mouths, and the tilting, wheeling sensation that comes from looking up for a long time.
My idea of heaven
Rule: It is occasionally proper to be a diva. It is less okay to be emo. Figure out the fine line regarding your eventual return to wherever it is you believe you came from.