I’ve been living a lie.
“Living” being the inoperative word here.
You see, I’ve being playing dead for quite sometime now. The good news: This is perhaps the only arena (in life) where I can say in all humility that I’ve been operating well ahead of the curve.
It’s nothing but a Pyrrhic victory though. Why jump the gun when the trigger will be pulled soon enough? There’ll be plenty of time to be really dead later. No need to skip to the end just yet.
It would be a tragedy to die before one’s time. It only took 40 something odd years to realise this ? Godspeed…
“They say nothing is ever wasted. Either that or it all is.”~Bukowski. Let’s go with the first option. I’m experimenting with optimism. Here’s what prematurely dying taught me…
1. I learned to accept the inevitable, and the most feared of all outcomes at that. Acceptance is not enough though (see the previous entry here) one must give up on everything entirely to be truly free. “Abandon all hope those who enter here.” To misquote Braveheart: I’ve already died, now I can truly live. Thank the gods that I discovered this before it was everlastingly too late.
2. Death is both a time for mourning and celebration. Now I lay each day to rest with gratitude: you’re gone now my friend, thank you for the time that we spent together. I don’t know if I’ll see you again, but today was a good day.