How do you want to die?

For my English Honors class, we had to write a story about death. I wrote about a man who was a riddle. A man who lived and breathed intrigue, mystery, and death. I wrote about how I want to die how he did. <br><br><br>He fell into the ocean, and the sun disappeared.<br><br>If that doesn’t make sense, I guess I should explain. He had traveled to every place in the world, and in every place, he fell in love with death. Yes, death. He thought of death as a woman. She was beautiful and mesmerizing. She had a message, a message to live. She was mysterious and hard to understand. She was increasingly suicidal as time went on. I guess you could say that she was sort of the personification of the earth, riddled with disease and depression. But increasingly beautiful. More beautiful than a sunset, but, to me, not as beautiful as a sunrise. <br><br><br>He went to the ocean, to take one last look at death. He realized that the ocean was the personification of death itself, because it was beautiful, but not a sunset. It was intriguing, but not an end. It was depressing, but not to the point of death. It was limitless. But increasingly beautiful. <br><br><br>And so, he fell in, and the sun was lost in the horizon. It went into the waters of the increasingly suicidal death. I guess you could say that the reason he wanted to die like that was because he felt like he was constantly increasingly suicidal. That he felt like he was the personification of water. And that the only way to truly die was to give up on the world and fall into death. <br><br>I guess, I get what he meant. <br><br><br>So yeah, I want to die like that.