i don't fear death—i fear my death going viral

please don’t let my dashcam footage become a meme

i don’t fear death.

i fear becoming a trending topic.

i fear dying in a way that makes people say “oof,” pause for half a second, and then keep scrolling. or worse, they share it.

because look: i don’t believe there’s anything after this. i’m pretty sold on the idea that once we die, that’s it. we don’t go anywhere. we don’t become light. we don’t reunite with grandma in a misty meadow or a celestial podcast studio. we go back to the same nothing we came from.

nothing, eh?

let’s detour to comedian pete holmes, who has a bit on nothing that resonated with me. it helped me connect some dots on how i think about nothing:

it doesn’t matter if you’re an atheist, you’re a theist, i actually think we’re all kinda in the same boat. really, i do. some people think god created the universe. some people think nothing created the universe. which is the funniest guess. the “nothing” people make fun of the “god” people. they say, “god doesn’t exist.” i’m like, “okay, maybe.” but you know what definitely doesn’t exist? nothing. that’s the defining characteristic of nothing, is that it doesn’t exist. so what are we talking about? either you think it’s god, something you can’t see, touch, taste, photograph, and science can’t prove, or you think it’s nothing, something you can’t see, touch, taste, photograph, and science can’t prove. but i think we can all agree if nothing, if your nothing, sometimes spontaneously erupts into everything, that’s a pretty goddamn magical fucking nothing, you guys. and ask… ask the “nothing” people, “what happens when you die?” they’ll tell you, “nothing. you go into nothing.” i’m like, “you mean you merge back with your creator?” “that’s heaven, bitch.”

so maybe you do go back to your creator. and your creator is nothing.

but maybe that’s not such a bad gig. i mean, think about it: if literally everything exploded out of nothing (big bangers n mash), then that’s a pretty magical nothing, isn’t it? maybe nothing isn’t empty. maybe it’s pure potential. a blank canvas. uncut footage. a cosmic hard reset.

when i say i don’t believe in life after death, i’m not trying to be edgy. i just mean that me, the thinking, feeling person typing this—proooobably won’t be around anymore. i’ll return to nothing. but if something can come out of nothing once, i don’t rule out that something—some kind of something—might happen again. or maybe it’s a fundamental feature of nothing, that it will always erupt into something under the right conditions.

but even with all that cosmic curiosity and nihilist serenity, i still have one fear about dying.

i really don’t want to be caught on camera.

no live-streamed tragedy. no grainy footage. no viral video set to lo-fi beats called “dash cam footage from the last day of clark’s life (2025, colorized).”

it’s not the dying part that scares me. it’s the idea that my last moments might be turned into content.

i have a dash cam in my car. with a rear-facing camera. if i go out in a car crash, there’s a nearly guaranteed chance my death comes wrapped in a neat little .mp4 package. audio, lighting, everything. my whole death compressed onto an sd card, ready for upload.

and that doesn’t sit right with me.

it’s not just morbid—it’s dehumanizing. because if there’s anything more terrifying than death, it’s dying in 1080p, being dissected in the comments by armchair analysts, people saying “this is why i never drive in the rain” or worse, “and this week’s darwin award goes to *drumroll* clark!”

maybe someone adds a soundtrack. maybe i become part of a “top 10 disturbing moments caught on camera” compilation.
maybe some future ai clone of me starts doing reaction videos to my own death. (okay, maybe that one’s a little far out. but still.)

this is my real fear: not death itself, but death being packaged, replayed, and monetized.
death, turned into a loop.

do we define someone by their final action, especially when they didn’t consent to it becoming a clip?

my mind spirals even more when i think that rear-facing camera will likely catch me belting out pink pony club at the top of my lungs, mimicking chappell’s hip-shaking dance at the grammys moments before my blown tire sends me sideways into a telephone pole at 50 mph.

there’s something deeply uncomfortable about the idea that the most human moment of your life—your last one—could be reduced to a cautionary tale or a tiktok trend. even in death, you’re part of the algorithm.

and look, i know how this sounds. it’s a very modern fear. my medieval ancestors were probably more worried about dying in a muddy field or being mistaken for a heretic. i just don’t want my death to be used for engagement (or morbid entertainment).

i want to go offline before i go offline.

so no, i don’t fear death.

i fear becoming “guy who went out in a freak accident and now his footage is used in motivational videos about living life to the fullest,” or becoming a clip that’s hacky sacked around 4chan or any of the other armpits of the internet.

because the truth is, i won’t be there to be afraid. once i’m gone, i’m gone.
but the idea of my last moments being turned into a playlist? a meme? a fail army or rekt clip on repeat for sickos?

that’s the real horror.

so please, if you find my dash cam… delete it.
let me go back to the beautiful, mysterious, possibly god-tier nothing i came from.

no likes. no views. no comments.

just fade to black.

…but first, i need to check the analytics on this post’s performance.