In case fate gets rude to me and cuts my lifeline, kindly read.

Hey, it's Charlotte. Rayjenn Charlotte. This is not a suicide note or anything, no. I love myself too much to go to such path. 

I am writing this on the night of April 23rd of 2017. It's summer break from this time and I have nothing to do. (No, I have lots to do. I'm just underestimating things. That's my life in a nutshell.)

See, I am writing this because I want people to know that if in case I die--might be because of a terminal disease, accident, nuclear explosion in my workplace--they will know how to approach the event of my death.

Second, I am writing this because I've had experiences of other people's death. Of how superstitious relatives make conclusions out of the dead guy's actions before his death. 

"Before he died, he cleaned the house. As if he was bidding a final goodbye to his home." 

NOPE. I certainly don't want that. I would never have my family say lines such as 

"Maybe she top notched the bar exam because she was actually reaching her end."

Like, my god. Don't bloody do that to me. That's insulting. (Also I'm writing this not just for me but for every other dead people as well.)

A death of a person should not be considered a very grim event. Just sad. If it's grim, then it's a horror story (people usually fear the dead) but if it's sad, then it's sad and it will only be just that. You people should not make it into something dark and gaunt. The dead don't come back as souls and scare the crap out of the living.

Because I certainly believe that just like the birth of a person, death is a holy thing. You're going back to the hands of God and by making stories out of the death of a loved one is kind of disrespectful.

If I die, I want it to be an ordinary death. If I grew up as a good person, then it will be a sad death. But if I became a proud adult with no kindness at all just like how I'm seeing myself become, then it will be the most ordinary of deaths.

Hey, if you're reading this, please take a mental note or tell my family that if someone ever makes my death as if it's something out of a horror book, everyone should take turns slapping that person.

It's a favor but I want to establish a point. A death is a death. It is not something people can talk myths about just so conversations in my funeral home can be filled with fantasy. 

Particularly I'm talking about such statements (in my language):

"Hala uy, nag-suroy2 baya to siya sa Emily Homes. Nagbaklay-baklay lang pina-relax, mao na diay to iyang last suroy :(."

"Nagbalik-balik gyud to siya sa Fullybooked, namaalam na diay siya sa iyang favorite place."

^ Those are just few among the many. 

That's it. I don't know how things will turn out. I might not even die at all. Maybe there will be vitamins for immortality. Or maybe I won't even have friends that will tell my family about this. There are infinite possibilities so this post might be probably vague.

Sorry, 17-year-old me just have nothing to write about.

Adios!

("OMG she said 'Adios' in her blog post. Maybe that's her final goodbye.")

Say that and I will motherfreaking slap you from hell (or heaven? I really don't know).