How would you like to die?

There are thousands of ways to die, but unfortunately, you can only choose one. People in my family tend to prefer going through a short period of painful diseases before saying goodbye. No sudden heart attacks, or car crashes, or drug overdoses. The other day I was reading about this guy who told his son that when he died, he'd like to die in his sleep. He then went into the next room, fell asleep in his reading chair and died. He should have said that he'd like to die making love to Britney Spears.

It's funny how nobody wants to get old yet nobody wants to die young either. I've noticed that when you ask someone who really enjoys life, he'll tell you that he'd like to die at a young age doing something incredibly stupid, like jumping out of an airplane. To these people, death is just another of life's wonderful activities—another step in the way. But when you ask someone who has a hard time with life, he'll tell you that he wants to die quietly in his sleep, at an old age. For them death is another of life's many burdens—something to be postponed as long as possible, and experienced under sedation.

Regardless of how it happens, I think death is a necessary component of this world. Death is like our school's Principal, checking us out from the end of the hall, making sure that we got there on time, and that we get the most out of our education. And I hold resentment towards this ominous figure, as any schoolboy would. I would much rather run free through the halls, yelling and smashing things. But without this threat constantly looming over my shoulder, would I bother to get any work done? Would I bother to construct a life with meaning? Ultimately, without death, I'd have little reason to live.

Of course, that's just my opinion. I could be wrong.