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 Latest
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Diaryland |
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2004-07-17 - 4:08 p.m. So lately, I've been thinking of death.....and not just ho-hum-death-wow-that's-deep death, but death-death, like it's-coming-soon-death. Naturally, being 22 years of age, supposedly in average health, I'd imagine I should be afraid or startled or riled up about death........and I was, briefly, but now I look at it as if it happened right now, I'd be shrugging my shoulders in the tunnel of light saying, "Figures......." I could just swerve off the road and hit a light pole, concrete barrier, tree, etc. and put me right in that soul position, and I've thought about it more then a handful of times lately. I've looked up at the sky, (that big god-sized telephone reciever) on recent occasion and said, "I'm ready when you are.....I'm ready." I've thought, maybe I could wish myself cancer of the pancreas, and thought I could feel it manifesting in my body. Bill Hicks went out like that, he was a funny man, and he was a man I admired, and I figured it'd be honorable and give me time to give all my stuff away. I gotta whole lotta shit too, it'd take awhile. These death feelings almost always manifest themselves when I'm alone, contemplating, or just sitting in somewhere, loosely paying attention to whatever social happening I find myself in, and they pretty much paralyze me into a focus. I feel numb completely throughout when alone at these times. At those times I feel as if there's nothing left to experience or do, I've reached an end, and I want out of the game to start anew. All that I have left some days is laughter, laughing at it all, and I can tell you, when I laugh now, it's the most pronounced deepest laughs I've ever had. I watched "Anchorman" and I damn near pissed my pants, I laughed so good and hard, and not even 6 hours from that moment in the same night, I was ready to die and I wasn't at the least bit surprised. I think of all the post death festivities. Who's who of my life at my final resting place, wondering what they would think, but more importantly, would anything productive would come out of it? I guess crying would be a natural response, and I would love to see it, because I already made all them fuckers laugh, sometimes laugh them to tears, once, twice, a million times, it'd be a welcome sight to see different sides of folks-other then their anticipations of the incoming punchline. Maybe they'd be pissed at me, maybe it won't be such a big deal, "two tears in a bucket........fuck-it" occasion. Maybe they'd recite old funny moments, maybe some will get the final joke and laugh the hardest, and take a good, strong drink and muster to say, "An asshole to the end, Mike, you mutha fucker." It'd be impossible, but when feeling like this, thinking of all the pros and cons of life on Earth post-me, I just want to vaporize completely instead, but I can't escape the nonsense, or cover all the people i've touched from it. Nonsense is a part of my being and telling a good joke is like pointing out one of the infinite cosmic insecurities that I share with the rest of the world and bracing for it. I know god laughs the hardest, hands down, but for a moment I think I've rivaled god on an occasion or two. Ever since I woke up from my adolescent dream, I've been locking horns with god. Everytime I go into the ocean, I fight the waves as if they're god's fists. I curse at god for making it rain on my days off. I chastize god severely for making human beings fuck up the concept of love so badly. Sometimes I wish I never woke from my dream. I had a girl, I had ignorance as a safety blanket, I even had the most ideal, fairy tale vision of love, life, and living. Now I got a one-on-one, lumberjack match with god, the world and my thoughts. I can't believe my dreams anymore. I can't try to covet women's hearts. I can't use ignorance as a buffer. Everything I believed in shattered when I went to sleep for once.......my body and mind haven't adjusted. I've been told by so many of my idealism, my innocence, my purity, and staying true, it was only because I never slept and stayed in a living dream. Raven knows that I have an innocence to me and she also knew it wouldn't work. Professor Rio knows I am a true learner. Nick knows I only live for the irony. John knows my apathy. Ryan knows I'm a character. Kevin knows of my depression. Logan knows of my madness. My mother knows of my frustration. My father knows of my failure. And here I stand, waiting to die. I think I'm going out young.......by 25 years of age.......I don't know how that number came about, but it just came out from somewhere. I don't fuck, I don't read, I don't create, I don't feel, you'd think it's only a matter of time. God done beat me good. Something of me already died and something else is going to die soon.
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