Alifetime, in human terms, is rarely a linear progression. It is more like an odd concept. Something we weather, delight in, and survive. One thing it’s not: a straight path taking you to a place or destination against your will.
Any one or more of the following factors can dramatically affect the trajectory of our life’s journey. Health, wealth, skill, talent, education, planning, goals, friendships, career connections, race, age, gender, citizenship, community, family, economy, personality, disease, addiction, privilege, poverty, and luck. Life itself, for you and I, is never 100% certain. At some level, it’s a crapshoot, and more often than not, it’s like the Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride at Disneyland.
The duration and quality of our lives also depends on the generational and historical setting, and the progression of our species. In other words, birth and death timelines differ depending on who we are and where we live relative to other life forms on other planets in space and time.
FUCK ALL THAT!
Welcome to my world…
I’m 56. If I live to the ripe old age of 100, my life is more than half over. My mortality is an inescapable reality. In fact I would count myself lucky if I live another 25 years.
My life is a ticking time bomb, same as you. And no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to find the mother fucking digital display for the countdown, or the crackling fuse I can easily douse in a bucket of water.
We are born. The timer is set. At some point we go KA-BOOM!
We have that in common.
We are brothers and sisters of life heading in the same direction of death. Of course God, in His or Her infinite wisdom, has created us with one unfortunate defect causing a massive recall every year where 55 million people to lose their lives. The good lord simply manufacturers another 100 million more every year to replace the dearly departed. I know, it’s unfair to blame The Almighty for overpopulation and poor resource management on our planet. We must accept some responsibility. Then again, it’s such an awesome feeling to fuck or be fucked. It’s hard to just say no.
The amount of time we have is limited and is a uniquely personal experience. No one lives forever, or is born again to be judged for past deeds.
Mortality is not a comfortable subject for most of us. People rarely give it much thought until we experience health problems ourselves or someone close to us dies.
Nobody wants to dwell on the particulars of their date with the mute man dressed in a grossly oversized smock who is clutching a wooden pole with a gnarly super-sharp blade attached. That’s exhausting. So much better to concern ourselves with the tangibles such as circling the parking lot like a shark searching for a killer space that brings us 15 steps closer to the mall entrance.
We all demand more than what we have, and we want it yesterday. In the end, there is always a price to pay. And the price for admission to ride the train called life is its eventual derailment somewhere down the line.