On the shoulders of said "friends", I now lay dormant in a wooden suit, a tuxedo of death, the one that will end up housing my remains until the end of time.
In life you start with none, bar your family of course, and slowly work your way up to tens or maybe even a hundred or so people you can recognize by their face,
voice even patterns of speech and clothing; that's in your teens.
As you grow older, most will break apart from common circles, or even from you, they will slowly forget, and may never remember again, until everybody does, when you are no more.
You will be lowered below life's frontier by a bunch of now strangers, your family and a handful of actual friends.
But why would it matter now, when you can't reconnect with any.
Death is the only friend you have to eventually meet in this life, be thankful it comes right at the end.