When People You Care About Almost Die

death and yolo

Please Do Not Die Yet My Friend(s)

or

YOLO, Death, and Shit.

Today I woke up to a text from my mother telling me that this guy who I have basically known since he was born (a few months after me) had had a heart attack. A 33-year-old man had his heart attack him. Are we already at that age where everyone around us is about to die? WTF?

Sometimes when I’m super depressed I think about death too much. Once I asked a guy at the bar how his 2017 went (as it was right after the new year) and he said, “good enough, I’m not dead.”

And I replied with, “But, how do you know that’s not better?”

He quickly and politely left that conversation.

But really. It’s a pretty deep and dark question. How do we know? We do not know. Even when we’re on mushrooms and we THINK we know, we think we get it, we still have no idea.

Isn’t that what makes living so beautiful and fun? Not really having any idea why we’re here or where we’re going next?

What a ride, huh?

I sent my friend a message asking him not to die today. He explained to me that he didn’t just have a heart attack, he had a MASSIVE heart attack.

To which I replied, “you always gotta go big huh?”

Like, what a jerk?!

People who die are dead and they no longer have to care about anything, but then there are the rest of us still here who have to deal with the death of that person.

I think a lot of people get super upset about other people dying mostly because it reminds them that they too will be dead soon.

And also of course, that the dead person will no longer be capable of contributing in anyway to the alive people’s lives–which is often sad if that dead person was entertaining or thoughtful or interesting in some way, shape, or form.

In any event, I am glad my friend is not dead. I am glad I am not dead (even though I feel dead inside quite often). I am glad there are so many alive people and that most of the people who are alive are pretty alright (some of you though need to work out a few things still).

Mostly glad that puppies and ice cream exist on this planet with me, but that’s a topic for another day.

Almost Died. Bet You’re Happy About That.

still alive

Fucking Weird Shit Does Happen in Florida

or

If Someone Is Too Nice… Never Trust Them

 

Today I almost died, twice. Once because we interacted with a clean-cut serial killer who rents his car out to unsuspecting victims. Then, in an almost-actual car wreck where we were mere inches away from smashing and decapitating ourselves (the truck right in front of us had a bunch of wood sticking out his backend).

The weirdest part was that I wasn’t scared of death at all. I just had a feeling that this wasn’t it. And if it was it, whatever.

I mean, I’ve led an interesting life. I went to Burning Man once. I’ve had a threesome (more than once). I even read fucking Infinite fucking Jest.

Sure, there are plenty of things I still want to do before I die. Like have sex with a bro in an alley and then punch him in the face right when I’m cumming (consensually of course). Oh, and I want to have a threesome with two hot adult people dressed up like Mario and Luigi. And also a threesome with two hot adult people dressed up like Woody and Buzz (almost happened once but Woody chickened out). AND sex with a guy with a BIG dick dressed up like the Easter Bunny. Maybe do something weird with Santa Claus too? So many wonders are left to unfold.

I also want to finish writing this stupid fucking book that you all “claim,” you want to “read.”

And read it you shall because I ain’t fucking dead yet!

Once I almost died because my Super Type A Friend and my Super Type B Burner friend and I were all out at lunch at this Indian restaurant. They were chatting about their drug use. I was eating food because that’s what one is supposed to do at an Indian buffet. In any event, I had just taken a bite when my super Type A friend said, “I’ve never really done any drugs. Except that one time I smoked crack.”

Of course, I choked. She had to give me the Heimlich while my Super Type B Burner friend decided to go back to her plate and shove the rest of her food in her mouth like we were some kind of live-entertainment dinner theater.

Anyhoo. I go into WAY more depth about this particular incident and the time I blew everyone’s naked… minds… in my book that perhaps one day I will let at least one of you fuckers read.

In the meantime.

Namaste and shit.

Happy to still be here. I guess.