Dear Earth and Internet,

It was an immense pleasure to be a human member of both of your communities, and I say “was” because this is a document best understood (and most relevant) if I have already perished. I’m writing it now, therefore, with a beating heart and music in my ears, because I want to make sure my will can be carried out when I’m no longer there to say so myself. 

I’m going to address everything I’ve ever written, public and private. I’m going to talk about my assets (as if I had those at the moment), my books and video games (which are much more than assets), my digital memories, and my physical body. I’m also going to give preferences about my funeral and memorial. Unless I address these again in future writing, or unless someone very close to me knows with confidence that my will has changed in a certain way and I for some reason cannot write it down or dictate it at that moment, these should stand as my first and lasting will.

Why do you even need to read any further? If you don’t want to know nor desire to carry out any of my will after I die, then away you, please don’t bother much longer. If, on the other hand, this reader would at least like to know (and possibly help keep the good vibes going), here is an early public will.

On everything I’ve ever written:

Let everything I’ve ever published on the internet stay. Let my WordPress blog and my Substack account stay (family, among other things I’ll ask you to handle, please maintain those two subscriptions). Let my online remains be a lasting reminder that even though social media is a quite goofy thing, it can still be a medium for promoting good ideas and exploring important topics.

Let my Google Drive be wiped and destroyed, for I have taken many pains to put a filter between what I note personally and what I publish publicly. 

Let most of my personal collection of notebooks and journals be burned (it doesn’t have to be that dramatic, but they should be thoroughly destroyed). I’ll let my family choose only a handful of notebooks to be kept and given to either my future spawn or to future generations in general, for I have demonstrated excellent note-taking skills, penmanship, and have recorded more than one entertaining thought. In other words, let the future see only some, not all, of the streams of consciousness I’ve had during my time on this planet.

On my assets:

Let what little money I have be passed onto my wife and any future spawn. Donate like 10-30% of it to effective charities please (I hope to be more specific about where my money should go in future iterations of my will). If my wife dies before I do and if I have no children, let my assets be split between my blood momma and my in-law momma. If they’re also gone by then, let it be split between my blood brother and my in-law sisters. If they’re also gone by then, just give it all away to a good cause. 

On my books and my technology (which have been much more than just assets): 

My books and my tech are my most prized possessions. Family and future generations, I will need your help, including some manpower, in recycling these properly.

Let my books be given away in three stages. First, there will be a giveaway at my funeral. So, if you’re lucky enough to still be alive when I’m gone, and if you happen to be so kind as to stop by my funeral, you get first dibs on my collection. Second, let the remaining books be advertised online and given away (yes, for free) to anyone who has demonstrated actual intent to read them or otherwise use them well. Third, if more books remain, or if a sufficient time has passed and no one has claimed them, let the rest be donated to schools, libraries, and prisons. 

The thing is, even though technology can seemingly do everything nowadays (at the end of 2024, as I write this), books seem more timeless to me. With nonfiction, sure I believe in the forward march of progress and truth and therefore some works will be much less useful than others as time goes on. But with fiction and poetry, truths are explored in ways that are regenerating and revitalizing, no matter the time period in which they’re found. 

In other words, I don’t really know how valuable my self-built computer, my PlayStation 4 and my Nintendo Switch will be at the time of my passing. I would like my wife and any future spawn to be able to decide what to do with them, but I’d prefer that whichever tech they decide not to keep be donated to random yet deserving people. 

Destroy my phone. 

On all the good memories I have in the form of photos and videos:

I have kept an external hard drive. My wife at least knows where it is, though if you’re reading this and she’s already gone, I don’t own too many physical things so it shouldn’t be hard to find.

On my body:

Though I’m already an organ donor, please deal with my body in such a way that each of its parts are best utilized by other people. Donate the parts that would still function well. Recycle the parts that are past their best-by date. As much as possible, let my remains act as fertilizer and be returned to the soil of this beautiful Earth.

This means that no, there should be no body (please not nobody!) at the funeral. 

On my funeral:

Let my funeral be primarily a celebration of my life (more “wow, look at what he did” than “darn, he’s gone”). Though I don’t want any physical remains to be on display there, let there be some personal objects and photos that people can still mourn over if they feel the need. It’ll be a sad day when I’m gone (not to brag), but I would rather have attendees remember and relive the fond memories I left behind. Let as many who wish to speak publicly about my legacy do so.

Let it be a strong preference that the music of Beach House be played at this event. Their art is melancholic, pondering, profound, emotional, serious, cool yet warm like cherry red, and for almost the entirety of my existence I was in love with it. 

Let this be the message for all those who attend the funeral: If you’re reading this, that means I didn’t make it as far as you, darn. But if you’re reading this, that means you have at least a little more time! So, for my sake, please use that time well. Create art, play a sport, read a book (take one from me!), cook a meal for someone else, call your family and your homies, try a new food, clean that one part of your house, play with your pets, do drugs (responsibly), or go take a walk. I spent much of my time on Earth, much of my time on this beautiful planet (where you still have more time, remember!), figuring out how to best spend my time. It’s not daunting. There are so many good options, so it’s easy to be right. Love, Christopher Raymond Leelum.