Saturday, February 18, 2017
I'm going to order a case of water and have it shipped to Flint, Michigan. Ten bucks or so, that's all it will take. I'm asking that my Facebook friends do the same thing. I'm going to order mine from Wal-Mart and have it delivered there. On Monday, I'm going to call the mayor's office in Flint and ask what is the best address for it to be sent to. Please, please, please, please, please do this with me. I'd love to know how many cases we can get sent, so, if you don't mind, direct message me and let me know if you're willing to do this. Let's do this anonymously and not put our names on the shipment. Let's do our part to fix this. If everyone in the United States sent one case of water, well, I don't have to tell you what that would do. Just imagine.
Thursday, February 2, 2017
I write some. I wrote this thing called a haibun yesterday and that was fun, like a puzzle there at the end. But let's not talk too long into the night about writing. Then this morning I became stressed and then angry and got in an argument with my girlfriend. I had a massive heart attack, a flatliner, back in 2014 and this morning I could feel my heart weakening. It's damaged in a way that can't be fixed and this morning I could feel it getting weaker and straining to beat in my chest and I realized again that I don't want to die angry or stressed or unhappy or tired. I'm forty and, at best, I probably only have about twenty years left to live. Likely less. For the past forty years my life has been nothing but hardship - survival. What I'd like is for my life to be about living, just living instead of surviving whatever shit storm is happening at the time. And the horrible part is that there's no way for that to happen. As long as I'm alive, it's going to be a survival situation. People around me will keep hating each other and the tension of that will never let up. My heart will stop and I will die. And then, friends, there's nothing. I've been there. I have been dead and let me tell you that there is nothing. A forever dreamless sleep. So what's to be gathered from this? Well, you need to understand that this one life, however long it may be, is the only thing you get. There's no hereafter, not of any kind. There's no continuation. Dead is the end. I've spent forty of my however many short years worrying and feeling tension and hurting and being depressed and being in the middle of such impossible hardship. I have to find a way out of this if I'm going to have any sunlight in my life. I wish I could hit myself in the head really hard with something and reset my brain, wake up as somebody who can't remember anything that has happened to him and start over, less invested, less heart hurt, less beaten. But it's not going to happen. I'm going to keep waking up every morning to all of this until my heart can't take it anymore and I die. What a fucking dark setup.