Is that too crude? Do you prefer a more poetic turn of phrase, like “shuffling off this mortal coil”? Well, tough. It’s the apocalypse, and time is too short for poetry.
Your body is meat, and you are leaving it. What will become of it? Who will look after it? How can you be assured it will be treated with the honor and respect it deserves? Who will pump it full of toxic chemicals and dress it up in a nice outfit, suitable for public display? Believe me, none of this is going to matter when you kick it off like an old pair of stinky long johns you have been wearing for a long, long winter. My advice is just burn it (goes for both your body and the long johns). But wait – you can’t burn it, as you won’t be here. So you must leave specific instructions to someone you know, telling them to burn it for you. But wait – it’s the apocalypse, so they probably won’t be here either, and if they are, they will be far too busy fighting off the minions of Cthulhu to give two happy shits about what happens to your rotted old carcass. All things considered, however you leave your body, it is just as well to leave it in the wilderness and let nature do what nature does. No chemicals, no suit, no hermetically-sealed aluminum tube… just you, the insects, and maybe the occasional badger, my friend. That is the way God intended.
However, I get the feeling that that is just not going to be enough for you. You want a monument to attest to your presence and/or works here on this doomed earth. Isn’t that right, O Ozymandias? Fine. How about this tasteful design?
Think of the joy it will spread to the family that has the plot next to yours. It is really hard to write sarcasm. Look, the point is, your body is useless and pointless without your little spark of the divine rattling around in it, telling it to make an ass of itself at parties. What the hell do you care what happens to it? The whole world is falling apart and you want that smelly old thing preserved? Where are your priorities? It’s a foul empty shell and you should not dump it off on your loved ones. Make it disappear, the faster and more permanently the better. You did shameful things with that lump of meat, didn’t you? It’s gonna start to stink, isn’t it? What a lovely gift to leave your family. It’s the equivalent of taking a dump under the Christmas tree in lieu of presents. I don’t even want to think about it. It’s going to rot. Get rid of it and be glad it’s gone. You know it starts to rot with you still inside it, don’t you? It grows hair and shrivels up and gets all splotchy… starts to produce noxious odors and draw flies. Think of the Jack-O-Lantern a few weeks past Halloween. Be glad you’re getting rid of it. Maybe twenty-five good years with that thing you’ve got before it goes sour and starts to produce all sorts of awful gasses. I just hope you did some living in those twenty-five years, when it was in its prime. In short, enjoy your body, but in the end, when you leave it, just kick it to the curb. What is this insane ritual of preserving it and painting it and dressing it up? It’s an illusion based on a hope of immortality, and it’s just sick… sick on so many levels. The body is not meant to be immortal – YOU are. What happened? Did you get confused in there somewhere and lose track of where you end and your body begins? Did you actually think of your body as though it was you? Ha! You idiot! What a jackass! Your body is no more you than the thimble on a Monopoly board is you. Still, it may be a good idea to treat your meat with respect while you are in it. Watch what you eat. Now forget about the meat and let’s move on.