A few years ago I started on a project called The Blog Book where I was compiling a group of random…. I don’t even know. Some of these definitely don’t qualify as stories . I was definitely dialogue-heavy in my writing back then, something I still enjoy in fiction writing. So I’m just going to post a number of these as a way to show where I was.
I wrote this in 2008! Reading this, it made me realize how focused I was on figuring out life. Enjoy!
I can’t sleep.
It’s 3:30 in the morning and I can’t sleep.
I have to be at work in four hours and I can’t sleep.
My mind tends to wander before I retire for the night, thus I’ve developed a pre-slumber addiction to television and radio. If I didn’t have the distraction of background noise I would soon devolve into a certified insomniac. Like tonight.
The real reason why I avoid laying awake at night sans the warm glow of late night television is because my thoughts consistently gravitate towards the concept of death. Pretty morbid, eh?
You see, the thing that blows my mind isn’t so much the fact that I’m going to die, but more so the idea that I’m actually alive. Think about it – I’m alive. You, me, we’re all alive. It’s a trippy concept that I’ll probably never explain properly without the aid of psychotropic substances.
And one day I won’t be. I won’t exist. There will be no me.
Let’s eschew any concept of religion for a moment, because it makes the concept that much more powerful. It’s easy to find solace in the fact that there is some existence beyond this mortal one we’ve become so attached to, but what if that weren’t the case? Would the fact that you’re alive mean anything to you or would you continue to live as if there were no end?
If you’re reading this, I can assume one thing about you: you’re life is pretty decent. Yeah, yeah, yeah… complain about it if you will, but things aren’t so bad. We read about global and domestic issues that easily trounce anything we personally bitch about.
Wah… My boyfriend broke up with me… Wah… Frowny face…
I looked at my own life recently with a clarity that’s only achieved through an open outlook. I’m not the richest man, nor am I poor. I have friends. I have family. I have a decent job. I’m healthy… other than an off-and-on gimpy ankle. I’ve been places other than my immediate surroundings. I have the luxury of writing this book. Life is good.
Life is phenomenal.
Not everyone can say that and at times I forget this fact myself. I sometimes forget that I’m alive to even think this.
I’m alive. And one day I won’t be. So this is my pledge to always acknowledge self being. I promise to make the most of every second of my meaningless existence. Death is chasing me as it chases all of us; its insatiable hunger looms over us and keeps us afraid. But as I lay here – unable to sleep and staring at the ceiling of a darkened room – I remember that I’m alive. And although one day I won’t be, for the moment I am. And that’s nothing short of phenomenal.