Faking your own death

Words by Da Hui

I always joked with friends since I was young that once my 35th birthday rolled around if I was not happy with my life that I would undergo a sex change and live out the rest of my life as a woman – frankly this isn’t going to happen unless someone pays me a LOT of money to do so and I mean – living on my own private beach kind of money, but this has always gotten me thinking about another idea of mine which put simply would be to fake my own death.There is no real amazing idea behind this except to be able to attend my own funeral and not only hear my own eulogy but to start a slow clap at the end of it from the back row! I hate the way that so many people are so reserved with their feelings they may never be able to address them and speak them aloud until after I am gone and that’s just pointless as far as I’m concerned, yes it’s closure for them but it’s needless closure if I have already heard it and know what they truly think of me. I decided a long time ago that as long as I have one trusted friend who can organise my funeral and claim to ID my body, write the obituary in the paper and basically do all the work whilst I’m off laying low somewhere nice and warm then it’s possible. The thing is though I will have to wait until my parents are dead because the shock would truly stop my mother’s loving heart if it happened now and my remaining family would clearly grieve over me but the way I think of it is that I shall be doing this for my friends and for myself so that when I rise out of the casket at the end of my own funeral to see the look on everyone’s faces it will all be worth it, even though my friends may hate me for a while I will be able to achieve one of my dreams and hear what all you bastards really think of me, I will then as a manner of course go and round up everyone who didn’t attend and demand an explanation! I know I am being mean and sending my friends and family through un-necessary pain and grief but from my own view I know my friends will share in the laugh and hopefully just be plain old relieved that I am not dead. This idea aside though faking your own death leads to a few really troublesome and seriously un-funny problems once you re-emerge from the dead not the least of which is getting a new passport and making sure that everyone has heard so that 6 months down the line people aren’t still saying ‘Alright Matt? I thought you were dead.’ 

Occasionally though there are times when I do really need to disappear, times when I want to get away from everyone and everything because I feel it is all infecting my life and spoiling this one great chance I have, those of you who really know me well will know that there are times when I seem to just drop off radar and no one can trace my movements for a few days, However I am good at this so everyone presumes I’ve just been seeing other friends or working a lot and I can easily deflect the questions – even my on off girlfriend of the past 4 years has never really noticed anything and it is through her I have learnt to curb this desire of freedom because I simply always looked forward to seeing her and am no longer worried by responsibilities. I always come back to the idea that if I could start again I could have another chance but a better chance knowing all I know now giving me a firm place to stand and take stock of my real life as I was no longer swept up in living it… but how to achieve this?

Then it hit’s me!

Exile, , falling off the edge of the world. I’m not talking about going on holiday or even going travelling for a while – I’m talking about going and living in once place (possibly after a spate of travelling) where you begin to live and do your own thing and it can be somewhere remote or just another city but my idea would be that as soon as anyone asked me about myself in this new location I would lie my ass off! Lie, lie, lie I would make up my entire history and start my entire life again and as far as anyone knew I would be this person I had created wearing them like a glove puppet, I’m not talking about being anyone extravagant ‘oh yes I’m the son of a king and the rightful monarch of Ireland’ or anything but just as an experiment to see how it affected me and how other people would treat me differently because of my supposed history because that’s one thing I notice about living around here, You cannot ever really escape your past, you have a profile built up and subconsciously shared by your peers and whether you think the opinion they hold of you is right or not they still continue to hold it and subconsciously act on it when they talk with you or choose whether to invite you to something or not. How many people do you know who you are good friends with who you see just about every weekend but who you never actually call or make plans to go and see? I bet you can think of a few and this is an example of this habit at work, and it’s not necessarily bad in itself, it’s just something I have always wondered about looking a objectively.

I myself am still held in the doghouse for an act of violence over 5 years ago by certain people and I know that there’s very little likelihood of that ever changing because put simply I never see them, these 2 maybe three people have this idea concreted in their head and avoid me because of it and I cannot get the chance to change it or show them my personal growth over those years – I’m sure you can all think back to something you did that didn’t turn out how you wanted it and the horrible sense of loss and of powerlessness you felt at having someone take away something from your meeting that you did not attend only to find you cannot change it. My idea is that through living in another country as another person you could free yourself from all the insecurities which come from knowing that the people around you have known you for years and have seen you naked and drunk and making a fool of yourself and know your personal details. If however you lived in a place where you were totally unknown and were asked about yourself – do you think you would still answer exactly the same or would you give your answers in accordance of how you really feel about yourself and the world without fear of persecution?

I don not wish to escape my past or the future it is taking me towards I’m merely using it as an example of one of the things that still stings me to this day but what if I could change it? What if I were ever so sick of it all I wanted to change my life? We are all familiar with Frank Abignale, the real-life con artist immortalised in the movie Catch Me If You Can. A man who has become a personal hero of mine after I read a few things about him and looked into it further, this chameleonic nature appeals to me with the idea that personality is transient, I cannot abide people who are two faced or fake however the change in a person’s personality for any genuine reason enthrals me and I cannot help but notice and evaluate.

The world is but a stage and everyone upon it an actor – I have always vehemently disagreed with this stupid saying that aims to absolve anyone for responsibilities in their actions until this day where I begin to think it may be possibly for you to choose which part you play.

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