and so the countdown officially begins.
i had this discussion last evening that shed a lot of life in my values and my main concerns. i’ve known for quite sometime that i have anxiety, and initially it was thought to have stemmed from the tragedy that happened this past summer. deep down, i’ve known its been around for quite some time prior to this past summer, but i was talking with a about death, and life and everything. and i used to be terrified of death- i’ve always respected it though. but anyway, while we were discussing what the cycle of life, this chill took over my body, i just started shaking uncontrollably because its so difficult to fathom that one day you can be sitting in your cubicle, and the next day you’re gone from this planet. or so we know at this point. its amazing to think that we’re living our lives just to die. i know that’s sort of a cynical way of thinking about it, but we’ll all end up in the same place at some time or another- yeah? we live for what, a guestimate of 75 years just to die. think about the people who lived 200 years ago. its been probably 125 years since they were alive. talk about some rest.
i’ve always tried to appreciate every day i survive, but sometimes its difficult for me to do so. but with all these thoughts surrounding death, and tragedy and loss, i suppose you should count your hens and show some thanks. you’ll never know when your time will be up, and i know that sounds rather cliche coming out of my mouth but the last time i really thought about death, the last time i got nervous for my own death was when i was at least ten years old driving home from poland springs. i remember how nervous i got, how i began to cry, because when you think about it, death’s emotional. you leave your earth body. but do you go anywhere afterwards? we all hope we do. but how can we be sure? we can’t. that’s the beauty of death and life… its all a mystery, and you just have to accept it.
another thing i was thinking about was what it feels like just before you die. does it hurt? im sure for some…yes. but ive always imagined it feels like a knot sinking deep into your stomach and you have your final exhale where you can clearly feel the knot present, but after a good couple of seconds, it slowly starts to disappear. during this time i also expect you are ridding yourself of extra baggage and all connections to the earth.
but i’m sort of done talking about this right now. i’m tired, and thoughts are not flowing as they should be.
Foolish: An Interlude
I have this friend, who doesn’t know it.
A boy of many words, all of which vary in length, meaning and origin. A boy of many places, hailing from New England, only to be found in New England years after his birth. A boy of a significant rearing- perhaps similar to mine, but at this moment, remains undiscovered by yours truly. This boy- in essence, the boy, knows me like most. She’s crazy and funny. Smart N sassy. Maybe a bit too young. But overall, she’s a girl…that I can relate to. He knows me like that, but he doesn’t. He hasn’t said those things, perhaps, those words, have never even crossed his mind! It’s atrocious, and detrimental (mind you) to think, that just because I think ever so highly of him, doesn’t mean that he understands, and in exchange, has his own thoughts of me. He’s my favorite one in town. He walks with an unchallenged swagger- although, deep down he’s broken- deep down, he’s just as anxious as me. Deep down he knows this interlude is addressed to him. But he hides,
he hides behind a false persona, and he expects me to laugh, like the rest of the folk we remain in sync with. In town, I rarely see him. There were phases, where, I did, on occasion, run in to him, walking up & down the hills (can you even call them that), where I’d run into him, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, his eyes darting from place to place, without any given pattern, or any specific subject.
Unlike most however, I don’t look at him as just another funny guy. Yes, he has a sense of humor- but that of course is not his defining quality. He speaks out to me, whether he knows it or not. His 15 year old boyish demeanor (even though his age in real life is far beyond those years) wins me over, the quirkiness and how he carries himself. Bad posture. No sense of time, and in addition- no sense of consequence? He’d argue this, that’s for sure, but I see it. He may think things through, but he thinks things through for the moment, not for the future. Whether or not he knows this- even with his wonderful qualities, and his pas desired ones, he is my other. He knows me deep down. His prose narrates it. And I need him to realize, that I, yes, I, am his narrator, to this tragic tale, of life, love, death, and what’s to come next.
my oasis phase has come and gone, but i did enjoy finding this photo. once again the rain is plaguing me. no longer is it soft rain, i could hear the thud of the tiny droplets against the roof a l’ecole. i waited for 45 minutes after classes got out to read a speech, the person waited for however, never showed up, and typically, that sort of action would have tainted my mood for the remainder of the day. i dealt with it differently though- seeing as its their loss, not mine. i also didn’t take it personally. i’ve been writing more and more of my story- although, i’m not sure what the ending is going to be, nor am i sure about how certain events will play out. coffee shops are no longer my favorite places- now i enjoy being alone, in my room, with my cats, or without, doesn’t make much of a difference. its just these people…these people are nuisances.
after getting out of a long shower (third one today) i was confronted with an obnoxious bass sound coming from my kitchen. the rain has bothered me all day and the wind has turned into my biggest enemy. but as i left my bathroom, i see my dearest mom, in the kitchen, doing sun salutations to candy shop by 50 Cent. don’t quite know how to interpret this situation, which is why- once again, i’m in my room, carefully pondering my upcoming activity for the next four or so hours. maybe a nap is in order?
that was the best nap i’ve ever had.
i ate at norms- like i typically do on thursday evenings. because the weather was/is horrendus i assumed the bar would be empty- not the case though. i often think that perhaps i eat there too much, but what can i say? its out of habit, and there’s no changin’ tradition. the wind and terrential rain is very ominous. i’m not particularly enjoying it- in fact, all day i felt like i was walking though a hurricane. ive been thinking about staying in a single room with a quilt, some beverage, a few records, and good company. but, being unable to do so, i’ve had to change location a few times in the past 24 hours or so. typical thursday thus far. not much gained, not much lost- but overall…its been typical. good news is that tomorrow….besides being friday
anxiety. bad bad weather. demonic type gusts hitting up against my window!