Afterwards, I couldn't stand human company. Not the intimate kind.
The sun was setting, by then. Getting dark.
I walked, for over an hour. And then I came to a bridge over a reservoir.
I sat there, my feet dangling over nothing.
Automobiles and talking people went past until I could no longer hear them.
Words chased each other around my head. Phoenix lyrics and broken quotes from forgotten books.
One step...I almost took it.
It was dark. I could only see the still water beneath by the reflection of the orange glow and faint stars illuming the sky.
This was nowhere near the Savage's cliff. But I had the same epiphany.
Discovering Time, and Death, and God.
Now I stare up at barely glowing plastic ceiling stars, wondering why.
Why does there have to be an answer?
ReplyDeleteThere doesn't.
ReplyDeleteBut my ridiculous half-eroded belief that there is keeps me wondering.
I've got a secret for you. I'm only going to say it once. Are you ready? Everyone is bound to be alone and when they're dead and gone. There is nothing more than this, no answer that will make it all better. So there's a choice; either this life means nothing at all, or it's all that matters.
ReplyDelete"We're all alone when we die. No matter how many people are standing beside you, holding your hand."
ReplyDeleteIn a sense, life is both.
What does it mean to you?
It means nothing. When I die it will be as if I lived my whole existence for that moment, it will equal every other experiance and memory. I will toss it away carelessly, as if it were a mere trifle, a keepsake I've known I've had for far too long.
ReplyDeleteThen burn out.
ReplyDeleteDie young and fast and...with heart.
Die golden.
I no longer have the energy.
ReplyDeleteDo any of us?
ReplyDeleteThey're not going to remember your life, they're going to remember your death. Might as well make it worthwhile.
I don't care who remembers what. Eventually everyone who remembers will be gone. And then everyone who remembers them will be gone.
ReplyDeleteAnd then, some day soon, a boy just like me will be born, on a planet just like this one, in a universe a thousand infinities away. And he will fall in love as I did, and he will hate as I did, and he'll fuck up the same as I did, and he'll open his eyes like a child, and he'll wish he was blind.
And then he will die.
And once he's gone, people will only say 'he was a nice lad' or 'he went out doing what he loved.'
And then they'll forget, and die.
And the people who remember them will forget, and die.
And then, some day soon, a boy just like me will be born, on a planet just like this one...
And history repeats itself, and nobody ever learns their lesson.
ReplyDeleteWhat makes you think there's a lesson to be learnt?
ReplyDeleteNot necessarily a lesson, per se.
ReplyDeleteBut something to take out of it.