I've been thinking about the concept that a suicide note written by a person who is not suicidal is merely an autobiography. I'd like to think that if I wrote a suicide note it would be a collection of lessons to pass on down the line. Maybe it would go a little something like this:

Don't worry about sunscreen. I disagree with Mary Schmich. The long term benefits of sunscreen are irrelevant. Life is short, and sunscreen is a waste of time.

Don't worry about being popular. Find one really perfect person and put all your effort into that relationship. Then, if you must, find a spouse.

How will you know when you find the right person to be your best friend? Meticulously catalogue all your faults that prevent you from doing something and then find the person who makes you capable of doing those things. If when you're together nothing seems impossible, that is your best friend. Despite what others may tell you, you only need one.

Give away your riches and don't possess any material thing that you aren't willing to destroy to make someone smile.

Watch less television, especially reality television; it is far from reality.

Understand that love is basically the act of putting your most delicate and priceless possession in someone else's hands and asking that they don't break it. But if they do, pick it back up, unafraid, and give it to someone else.

Life is like a gondola ride at the top of a hill, but you start at the bottom. You break your back trying to get to the top carrying the load that you were given at birth. The load gets heavier as you climb and you collect more things on the way up.  On your ascent you are near-sighted and miss most of the world around you by staring only at the immediate path and the petty obstacles in your way.  You aren't high enough up the hill or wise enough to see the whole mountain. Eventually, you make it to the top and unload all the stuff you were carrying into the gondola car. You get in and begin your decent downward. You see all the things you missed on your way up from above, but you can't go back and re-experience them. It's a lot faster going down than it was going up, and time seems to rush ahead. The years speed by, and before you know it the rides over. Just when you finally saw and understood it all, you are asked to get out, but you aren't allowed to bring the stuff you crammed into the car with you. You have to leave it there. Someone new was just born and they will carry it up for you. You die.

Don't pay too much attention to those who hate you; instead, thank them. Realize that they exist primarily to guide you toward the person you want to be by not following the poor example they set.

Never stay in the same place for a second longer than you want to. See the world.

Keep a box of things that you feel nostalgic toward, and when the time is right, burn the box.

Keep a journal, but don't burn it.

Don't ever answer the question, "What do you do?" by saying your profession. You are not your job.

Never have a reunion at a funeral; repair your relationships sooner.

Never base your mood on the weather.

Don't believe anything you hear until you've asked every question you can think of, especially when it comes to the melancholic ravings of a blogger.

Challenge authority.

Don't be afraid to meet new people. If someone shows interest in you it doesn't mean they are a creep.  Creeps produce a nervous shivery apprehension. Never feel a nervous shivery apprehension and don't ignorantly call people a creep.

Always give people the benefit of the doubt.

Take time out to make at least one person feel good each day. Pass out compliments as often as you can, and resist the urge to insult.

Carefully analyze every choice you make, for each one could end your life.

Don't be afraid to die. You can't be afraid and dead at the same time.

Don't be afraid to cry.

Don't spend all your time lifting weights. The human body will adapt to be as strong as it needs to be for its purpose. Don't fight evolution.

Don't go to school reunions. People don't change. The crowd will appear different from years past, but the dynamic and relative position within the relationship spectrum will oddly remain intact. There will be some rewarding moments; moments where opinions are unexpectedly shared or where a proverbial hatchet will be buried. People whom you may have previously offended may be more than happy to overcome that burden. But for most there will be a gentle air of apathy; for a key few, a complete invisibility. The same circles will still function well together and those who were not juxtaposed previously won't do well being in that position now. Mark Twain was right: We just grow older, but we never change.

Avoid shoptalk.

Don't embrace a nemesis. You don't actually have one. Claiming you do suggests someone formidable is mirroring your actions with rewards and retribution, but that doesn’t happen. You don’t live in a comic book. You're not a superhero. No, honestly, you're not. They are merely people on the other side of the spectrum; the balance required for your teeter to totter.

Don't spend too much time forcing the wrong poles of magnets together. Have courage to accept interpersonal limitations.

Don't expect everyone to like you; in fact, pray that not everyone likes you.

Don't pray, but if you must, don't expect anything to happen.

Don't argue about religion.

Admit to a mistake each day, but don't repeat it.

Don't get too hung up on the opposite-sex and broken hearts. There are three billion alternatives. None of them will be perfect for you, but at least one of them will close. Don't stop searching.

Don't settle…ever!

At the end of the day, realize you're worries are irrelevant. Instead, go to sleep and wake up not caring about the problems of yesterday. Like the first syllable in 'future', by the time you say it, it's already gone. But also realize that in doing this, you as a person won't have changed. No, tomorrow you'll just be older.

-Gerald A. Dinkel (He just says things.)

http://sardonicconnection.blogspot.com/2009/10/93-what-ive-learned.html