according to my wrist...
even when i seize the day, or try to. i am still terrified. according to don delillo, i will always be. atheist or not, my biggest fear, has nothing to do, really, with my life ending, or what comes after that, for me.
no, what i'm afraid of, is being forgotten. liek i haven't made a big enough impact on anyone, that they will ever suddenly stop one day, mid-swallow of coffee somewhere with friends and spit it out, yelling "dammit, i miss paul. remember the time, he ___!"
i thought about my friend aaron tonight, who died of brain cancer in november, who was 27. and how, there is no one i could have called at 10pm tonight that knew him, that would want to get together, just to spend some time out of our own lives, and MISS HIM.
and that.....scares the fuck out of me.
that i'm not even dead yet, but so many times, i believe, that there is no one out there, who ever spends time out of their own days, thinking about me, and paul-related things.
and if they don't do it now, how the fuck are they going to carry on the stories of my existence to the world, after i am gone. i need more to be told, than just my own words, through my writing. and if i died tomorrow, i dont even know how anyone would SEE my writing. my family would probably let it sit in a garage for 10 years or so, and then just throw it out one day. burn it.
so what, do i make a will? and who do i leave it to? who could i actually trust, to do something with it, after i am gone?
honestly, i don't even know who i WOULD leave it to, anymore.
a year ago it would have been kates. sometimes i think steph. christine maybe, matt? but.....
that's about it. i really don't know. it scares me, quite often.
my biggest fear, really is, being forgotten. does anyone else share this? want to talk about it, etc? i feel like i should start a support group, or something. or. start writign a book about it, idunno. something. where people for once, talk about their honest innermost human fears. we're becoming such a fucked up, alienated species, completely detatched from one another, forgetting about what it means to be human. its unbearably depressing, each day. i try to be different. i try to get strangers to talk to me. i try to help people. i call people countless times a day, just wanting to share some of what i have in exchange for others time. but. most of the time people dont talk, or people dont answer, or. are probably off watching tv, or something. i dont know. but....
tonight, i just wanted someone to talk to......and i couldnt even convince kate, who shares my beliefs about death, whos words in regards to it i have tattoed on my damn wrist til i rot, to acknowlege my damn presence in the world, even over AIM.
i dont know how people, regardless of some things that happen between them, can throw away such strong connections.
i'm really sick of always being the "different" one sometimes...
oh, and her. the girl in the last post? she's.....sorta gay now. but still such an thing to behold, for these sore eyes. we had a fun night, of jack daniels shots, oldschool rap, and laughing at bush quotes in bathrooms...
no, what i'm afraid of, is being forgotten. liek i haven't made a big enough impact on anyone, that they will ever suddenly stop one day, mid-swallow of coffee somewhere with friends and spit it out, yelling "dammit, i miss paul. remember the time, he ___!"
i thought about my friend aaron tonight, who died of brain cancer in november, who was 27. and how, there is no one i could have called at 10pm tonight that knew him, that would want to get together, just to spend some time out of our own lives, and MISS HIM.
and that.....scares the fuck out of me.
that i'm not even dead yet, but so many times, i believe, that there is no one out there, who ever spends time out of their own days, thinking about me, and paul-related things.
and if they don't do it now, how the fuck are they going to carry on the stories of my existence to the world, after i am gone. i need more to be told, than just my own words, through my writing. and if i died tomorrow, i dont even know how anyone would SEE my writing. my family would probably let it sit in a garage for 10 years or so, and then just throw it out one day. burn it.
so what, do i make a will? and who do i leave it to? who could i actually trust, to do something with it, after i am gone?
honestly, i don't even know who i WOULD leave it to, anymore.
a year ago it would have been kates. sometimes i think steph. christine maybe, matt? but.....
that's about it. i really don't know. it scares me, quite often.
my biggest fear, really is, being forgotten. does anyone else share this? want to talk about it, etc? i feel like i should start a support group, or something. or. start writign a book about it, idunno. something. where people for once, talk about their honest innermost human fears. we're becoming such a fucked up, alienated species, completely detatched from one another, forgetting about what it means to be human. its unbearably depressing, each day. i try to be different. i try to get strangers to talk to me. i try to help people. i call people countless times a day, just wanting to share some of what i have in exchange for others time. but. most of the time people dont talk, or people dont answer, or. are probably off watching tv, or something. i dont know. but....
tonight, i just wanted someone to talk to......and i couldnt even convince kate, who shares my beliefs about death, whos words in regards to it i have tattoed on my damn wrist til i rot, to acknowlege my damn presence in the world, even over AIM.
i dont know how people, regardless of some things that happen between them, can throw away such strong connections.
i'm really sick of always being the "different" one sometimes...
oh, and her. the girl in the last post? she's.....sorta gay now. but still such an thing to behold, for these sore eyes. we had a fun night, of jack daniels shots, oldschool rap, and laughing at bush quotes in bathrooms...