Super Shiny Happy Ra Ra Post Written on the Edge of Sleep
April 13, 2012 § Leave a comment
I actually remember what it was like to never give death a second thought. I was, then, less myself and more the reason for a certain number of things, socially speaking – death as good as wouldn’t happen to me. It was all heightened by the fact that it would undoubtedly happen to almost everybody I knew first, and since I couldn’t imagine even that, I was clearly nice and safe. Death. We danced, and there was some casual nudity.
Whereas these days I associate it – death – closely with almost everything that I do. I eat vitamins and anti-oxidants in case they miraculously turn things around. I read because I need to mentally digest as much information as possible before the end (why, I can’t say. In case of regrets that may in future, but do not currently, exist, probably). I am beset with anxiety about time-based practicalities: money, care; what on Earth good am I, what have I got to trade? Sexuality reminds me of a sordid aspiration in which the failures (not failings) of two individuals are coldly reflected while they hurtle towards the inevitable, afraid and alone. Unlike the three I have just lived, the decades ahead of me will be ones of death and dying, and this when we were all just getting warmed up – my grandparents, my parents, then myself. I have never hated my body, neither, (a lie) yet it is about to fall into immense disrepair, eating at the collection of me, realistically, as if I never mattered – one event at a time. It kills in tiny little rows; I have seen it. It distracts the woman who serves me in the bank.