Monday, March 12, 2007

Part of Speech: Verb


It's ironic in a way, the way that Americans react to death. And i suppose it's other countries too, but I don't live there, so I wouldn't really know. It's ironic because we spend our whole lives making movies about death, writing novels about death, T.V shows, anti-aging cream, laws against killing people, fancy funeral homes, fancy funerals... And yet when it comes, it comes like a sock full of quarters to the jaw. We don't expect it, yet we've been preparing for it our whole lives, we're surrounded by it. 'But it can't happen to us, it happens to everyone else, but not us,' we cry. It's surreal and unfair somehow, that someone so close to us should kick the bucket.


So my grandma's dying. They give her a week. It seems less important, when Grandparents die. Because everyone's gone through that you know? It seems at some point in elementary school, there will at least have been seven kids you know whose grandparents have decided to push up daisies. Everyone has lost a grandparent. It's so different when it's yours though. Obviously.


I propose that everyone should have an expiration date. If you have an expiration date that says you'll die at twenty, fuck school. Go build a tree house. Hop on a boat to Hong Kong. Swim with sharks. Preferably without dying before your expiration date. That would be just stupid.

If you did have one though, you could avoid leaving your children without parents at age twelve. You could spare the love of your life the heartbreak and not get married. I know, that whole bullshit about a life not lived...I love my family. If I knew I was going to cause them pain, I would stay the hell away from them. Or I'd like to think.




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