to this:

"qqq: Since I dare to hope that my funeral will be crowded, music will need a lot, I have long since started picking up musical accompaniment for this action..."

A sister (29 years old, sewing by kind of activity) stands next to me at the funeral, silent, sad, and suddenly on my ear:
"I've long thought about how I want to have such shoes on me high, on a rope, a shirt so white long, with a strap, trousers so narrow... yes, and paint me brighter.
I: What are you talking about?
I’m talking about my...heh.

Oh Oh Oh Oh!