If one day Bitcoin is suddenly gone I will shed a tear . . . but only one
I will stay in bed for a week and get up only when I have to pee
I will eat only unsalted porridge and drink only distilled water from an earthen crock
I will take a trip out West and I will stand on a beach looking out over the Pacific Ocean
I will strip and walk out into the surf
I will stay there all day until my alabaster bottom turns rutabaga red
That night I will build a fire on the beach
I will burn my Bitcoin shirt, my Bitcoin playing cards, my paper wallets and my Bitcoin under garments
I will dance naked around the fire like a primitive
Upon my return I will paint my house black
I will make a turban from sack cloth and wear a cotton loincloth as I ride my bicycle around town
I will play Ode To Satoshi backwards in search of hidden meanings
I will take bagpipe lessons, learn ancient Greek and paint hieroglyphics with crayons
I will stand perfectly still and know that I am nothing.