||[Aug. 15th, 2011|11:32 pm]
the things we miss
I miss the twin illusions of security and solidity.|
Like most people, I existed under the mistaken premise that I would live for yet another few decades, that I was fine and had a job, that really really bad things couldn't touch me. Like everyone else, I had my share of trouble. But I was one of the lucky ones, wasn't I?
Now that I have probably seven months or less to live, now that I have no job and absolutely nothing to lose: Now I realize that that was always the case. There was no ground under my feet, or under anyone else's. Even now, yes, I might live a full seven months. But like you, I might be hit by a speeding bus tomorrow, or a plane could crash precisely into my apartment building while I sleep tonight. For me, just as it is for you, tomorrow is a fiction.
Ignorance is bliss, and I do miss it. On the other hand: Goddamn. I feel everything now. I can taste the nuance in every bite of food. This close to the end, I am absolutely fucking alive.