I don’t know.
I suppose being here is not enough and I should know this by now because if the first day of November taught me anything is that life isn’t promised.
Instead, the world pretends it is and yet we get nowhere. And at some point, we all eventually go.
Though that reminds me to ask, which is more or less appropriate to say, she died or she departed?
Anyways, as it happened the woman that lived above me on the third floor died of heart disease Tuesday morning and was found naked on her balcony.
Except, I wondered.
Did she have any kids?
I mean it’s like we have these lives that we’re attached to and still death remains our only way out.
Anyways, my neighbor down the hall, a florist, said she probably died from the sudden lack of heat insulation which he’s not too happy about since management started construction.
“I’m not happy,” he said.
“This sucks,” he said.
“The sudden lack of heat insulation is killing us,” he said.
Except, eventually I began having thoughts of dying inside a tiny little room layered with those aluminum pads.
I mean it’s like this, if we’re here today but then gone tomorrow then what’s the point of anything?
“There’s a lot to live for,” my friend would say. Only that’s not what I mean.
I mean what’s the point of waiting in line for 3 hours at the Apple Store to fix a broken screen, despite your screen going black just minutes before like it did last night. And then one day, poof you’re gone. Just like that.
I mean, everybody dies eventually.
Though last night I couldn’t sleep. And so I started rummaging through old things and found my diary from fifth grade drafted into short stories:
Miss Ross took us to the park to learn about birds, ducks and bugs. We got to take pictures and make art. Bugs are disgusting.
I think I’ll visit the park tomorrow. Maybe. If I’m still here.
Until next time.
“The trouble with quotes about death is that 99.9% of them are made by people who are still living. ” —- Joshua Burns
