“you’re lucky to be alive, you’re lucky, man!” that’s what my doctor told me today.
a month or two ago a fellow blogger and i were looking at our stats and site hits, i hadn’t done so in a year or 2 and was incredulous to find people all over the world were still actually reading this crap and i just kind of abandoned the blog over here not out of malice or indifference but out of stagnation and ambition. contrary to the belief of an ex lover, i have plenty of fuckin ambition, (ya bish!) i’ve taken upon the task of writing that book i mentioned in here so long ago. not only that, i started a second book to write when i hit writer’s block with the first, you speak of hardcore. i told you, i have ambition, i gots dreams, b and i’m going to realize them if it kills me or rather before it does. what my aspirations lack is time… i don’t have time… not in the everyday busy with work and life kind of way, though that too, but in the i might die kind of way. i may exaggerate for dramatic effect but at the same time i feel it’s true… i know it!
let me just go smoke a cigarette real quick…
i had probably smoked almost 4 packs of cigarettes in 2 days leading up to that surreal midnight drive to the hospital… wondering…
when i was 12-13 years old i started giving some real thought about my own death… by my own hands. i barely had hair on my balls and i was mulling over the idea of suicide. my naive young brain was a little too under developed to realize the audacity and sheer narcissism of these thoughts. i had them though… all the time. all throughout puberty i had myself convinced that i would one day kill myself… jumping off a bridge… i stood on patullo bridge in the middle of the night, staring down when i was bout 15 years old. this is very true. i relate to those kids that take their own lives and yet now at my age i’m just as shocked as those people that didn’t have those thoughts at that age… at least not in a real way… in a less fantastical way. but i knew i was too much of a coward to do it. those kids that do are anything but and i have nothing but contempt for anyone that thinks suicide is cowardly… it’s not bravery either.
anyway, those thoughts dropped as my nuts did. they lingered, they always linger but that’s life, right. it just turns into romance. it turns into tom sawyer watching his own funeral.
at my own hands has been out of the question for years and years and years BUT dying young by means beyond my control hasn’t. never will… especially not now. my idea of young has changed. i’ve always felt i wouldn’t make it to retirement. long time ago i thought it would be an accident or something. that changed after i had cancer as you may or may not have already read about earlier in this blog. i guess my organs and innards are going to kill me rather than my hands.
i was walking down the hall following the nurse after a blood test and ecg after a cold hard sweat… vice grip squeezing my back and chest into each other pushing my heart to the brink of explosion pushing the blood out the left side down my arm and not returning it back up, my brain forgetting to tell my lungs to breathe so that’s what i concentrated on pushing it to do because if i didn’t then who the fuck else was going to breathe for me?!? a lifetime later it passed. see it comes in waves and feeling normal is orgasmic. TRULY ORGASMIC! when that grip lets loose a little and your mind isn’t racked on trying to figure out how to keep you alive, that moment is transcendently sublime. that state of feeling NORMAL… THE ULTIMATE HIGH!
so i asked her, in my euphoria as i followed her down the hall, “so do you know what’s going on??”
“you’re having a heart attack” as matter of fact as she could be.
of course, i am. i’m 33, why wouldn’t i be?!? i knew this like when i knew i had cancer like i know i won’t make retirement like i know i have to finish writing these books before i die.
that night driving home after my friend and i were talking of our blog stats i decided i would write a farewell to you. i would re read everything i’ve written here in this blog so as not to repeat myself in any way and sum up thoughts about love and acceptance of each other and striving to be less judgemental of others, always. i even wrote some notes to get myself started. clearly i’ve discarded all that in light of the subtraction of more time. blame that night last week i was driving to the hospital while having a heart attack. it seems i’ve never really ended a blog post with the same thought i started it with so why i start now.
i feel like i pulled an Irish goodbye on you. and that’s not right because you’re my best friend… my shrink… my lover… you’re like no other and i’m not Irish so this is goodbye for now maybe forever… that’s a small maybe though, i’ll come back to tell you when my books are finished… i’m gonna go try to unravel some mysteries about love and time and life in novel format now.
peace.
