Sunday, April 09, 2006

Written postmortem (eventually)

A strange thing occurred in the shower yesterday (sorry to start something so morbid off on such a sexy idea): what happens if I die? If I'm walking around and a Mass. driver decides to just start driving on the sidewalk--without a blinker to alert us that he is going to start running over pedestrains, of course--and kills every person on foot for about 100 feet down Commonwealth Avenue, what will I have left to everyone? Then I realized that my legacy would be this thing, which is both sad and scary, mostly because people will remember be thinking "man, that last post with the dryer was just...weird. Man, he was a weird dude. Let's shit in his coffin before the wake!" That's not a good way to end one's life.

I always think ahead, so therefore I am going to put the last chapter on this sucker just in case something terrible does happen. Also, if I die tomorrow, I can be labeled prophetic; the white Tupac, somehow 'knowing' his death was coming. Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of a guarentee of getting shot every day, so I'm just going to have to guess and hope for the best. No, I don't know if "the best" means dying tomorrow or when I'm 80, mostly because the headlines would be soooo good! Wait, I'm a nobody college kid - I'll barely crack page ten. Well, hopefully it's gruesome so I can be a bloody mess on the Boston Herald's front page because they're sensationalist douches. Also, I hope no one famous was involved, because that would just ruin it for everyone.

The fact is that no matter what, a living thing always dies. There is no other option. If you live, you are sure to die (and if you're a plant, you get to miss taxation). While we all know that fact, we almost never accept it. When the person is eight, eighteen or eighty, death is never taken as an inevitablity, but a tragedy. It is almost always a surprise, no matter the age, as if it will never happen. My mom has tried to rationalize to herself that I'm "one of God's special angels," which is funny, because YOUR GOD IS DEAD Nah, just that I accept the fact that I'm not only not an angel, nor sent from God, but that I will one day pass away.

The weird thing is that I've never really had a problem with my own death. When I was younger, I thought I'd never live past forty. The best way I can explain it is that I was around five when I had this thought, and forty seemed like eons away, like traveling to Australia by foot (yes, I know you can't - that's the joke, folks). Now, I'm almost half way to the cap age that I have put on myself. Strangely, that's fine with me.

You can't beat death; there is no reason to try to win. Keep pushing that brick wall all day, pal, but it's not going to push back. Instead, I have realized what a great life I have (editor, please fix "have" to "had" if this is postmortem, thanks). I have a loving, supportive family who has always been by my side--although sometimes being on my side became "harping," I'll still forgive--and have believed in me.

I have had my close friends, The Table, The Boys, The Guys That Guy High At Mermicks A Lot, with whom I have shared the best, and worst, of times. They keep me stable, laughing, frustrated, ecstatic. I could very well shit all over them since none of them read this (notice how I didn't write "supporting") but hey, they're still good guys. I've been lucky enough to have a great number of friends, all of whom have had an incredible effect on me. Without them, I wouldn't think the way I do, write the way I do, feel the way I do, or possibly be sane in any sense of the word. I'm shaped by everyone who reads this, and for that, I thank you. (editor, if I'm backstabbed, "et tu, brute?" style, please make a note of "except for ________, who's a real dick.")

I have been in love, something a lot of people don't experience in a lifetime. I'm lucky enough to have it happen to me before I hit twenty. There are a lot of lessons to be learned in your teen years, and to have someone to share it with is such a comfort. We grew together, and now we are possibly growing apart, but isn't that the point? Together, we braved a lot of terrible times, where the only thing we had to lean on was the other person. Without a doubt, she kept me afloat for the better part of a year and a half, and I'm pretty sure I did the same for her. Our past was golden, or present is mixed, and our future is incredibly undecided, but I would refuse to give up any of the time we shared to curtail the current situation. They were the best years of my life (editor, the longer I live, extend this so if I die before like, 25, make it "my short life," it has more of a power to it. Also, if I'm married, throw in something about the wife, cause I might look bad if I don't, ya know, include the women I'm to love forever. kthx.)

The point of all of this is that I have become incredibly appreciative of the life I live. Thanks to my dad and my mom's refusal to go through child birth again, I am a spoiled little bastard who really hasn't had to live hand-to-mouth, or face any true hardships. I am now enrolled at a rather prominent college that could give me a great jump start to a career (editor, I hope that by the time I'm dead this is true...in fact, I just want a career in SOMETHING). I have tons of great people on my side and have accomplished a lot. The question is, what should I not be happy about?

My life has been incredibly successful, and I've already done more than I ever imagined. Growing up as the stuttering, glasses-wearing, rail-thin kid in an insulated suburb of New Jersey, I never thought I'd have these experiences or the fun or even the pain that I have had. I'm not going to say "I wouldn't change any of it for the world!" because there are a lot of (minor) things I'd like to change, but I'm sure I'm not alone (see: whitney houston, michael jackson, doc gooden, Pantera for being a hairmetal band, Styx for Mr. Roboto). I'm not sure I'll ever forgive myself for not watching 24 from the first season onward. Somehow, though, I will move on.... (editor, if I ever make the mistake of missing any other great shows featuring members from the cast of The Lost Boys, please add their shows to the list, cause there's no way I'm going to watch them right off the bat. If Corey Feldman gets a new show, and it is good, I'm sure we all died in the apocolypse, so ignore this and all other notes.)

The story whenever a kid (meaning up until 21) dies is "he had so much to offer!" I have always been amazed that almost EVERY single child who dies could have cured cancer, or beaten Super Mario 3 in 10 minutes, or write a novel that makes everyone realize how shitty of a writer Hemmingway is (and you're god damn right he's terrible - WAKE UP PEOPLE!). I'm sure that right before I died, I wouldhave gone on a coke binge and killed three people in a 7-11 before trying to hijack a Dennys and fly it into l'Arc de Triumphe. I think it's better off this way. (editor, if someone actually attempts this, try and clear my name for giving him the idea - the last thing I need is to be martyred a la video games, heavy metal, and the teletubby murders, which should happen around 2009.)

So, now at the ripe age of ___ (editor, please fill this in...and I don't see you needed that third _, but I figured eh, for insurance purposes), I have left the mortal coil. I hope my dying words were "oh wait." That way, people could think I was about to say something smart, or insightful, or profound, when really I just wanted them to think that. I would laugh all the way to the beyond, except, well, I don't think you can laugh once you're deceased. So, just remember me in my last action - laughing at you.

2 comments:

Partha said...

wow...nice

******

Anonymous said...

you spelled harping wrong