It’s nice realizing you can say that you’ve truly lived. I still have a lot of living left of course, but just a nice thought…
Seriously. Every once in a while I take a look and analyze my life. Of course I constantly do this but some times even more so. Right now I’m not looking over and learning life scientifically like I often do. Its more of a reflection of things. I always stumble on the fact that I’m living and how far my progress is in the world. And I can safely say that I feel I have lived.
I know bucket lists are nothing new, but I’ll admit I have one running. Yeah I haven’t done half of the things but it’s never about finishing it. Its about having things to live for. So if I died tomorrow my only disappointment would be if I went quietly and didn’t go out with a bang. But we cant all have cool obituaries. If I did go, I think I’d want to be hit by a falling chunk of satellite. I mean no one in history has ever died from that so I would like to be the first to. It might suck but it’d be cool. And hopefully quick. (Of course this is the millionth cool death I’d like for myself but I think its rather notable. )
But my point isn’t death. Its just that I feel like I’ve lived. I can’t really explain why. I’ll try but I’d never be able to explain what living is to me for several reasons. First being that alot of the things I might live for are plain stupid to other people. ( like wanting to be killed by a chunk of satellite, honestly I’d love my obituary to be that weird) The other being that I’m simply a different person than you.
I’m honestly not going to go into detail because I don’t want to. But I will say its a great feeling. I’ve sat under a full moon on a desolate beach somewhere in the wilds of canada and just sat thinking. You will rarely feel alive as that. You, the earth and the moon and separation from the rest of the populace. I’ve learned to create things. Today everyone buys things myself included, but great joy comes after making something yourself. It has soul and meaning like nothing else.
I’ve become content with my existence. I don’t want to et all deep and all that crap but you know it when you feel it. You realize your not perfect and accept it rather try to be something you cant obtain. And you find peace where you are.
So I guess heres to being rather anticlimactic and boring but its nice to believe you’ve lived. That enough of your pointless shenanigans feel like they’ve made themselves into something.
So heres to living. To not having a boring obituary. and to not caring when you kick the bucket and just knowing when you kick that bucket, that that fucker was as full as you could get it in the time you were given.
So good night you muggles and may may your life never veer towards normal.