"Papa, when they put the dirt on my grave, crumble a crust of bread on it so the sparrows will come, and I'll hear that they've come and be glad that I'm not lying alone."
From A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles
When I read that sentence, I had to stop to catch my breath. It's heavy. It is not a bad thing to think about the fact that you're going to die. The finality. The fulfillment of the statement that we are born alone and will die alone.
Especially at my age. Shit, man - every time I look in the mirror, death stares back at me and asks - "Are you ready?" I hesitate..... then answer "Fuck no - I am not ready to give up." And it's true. Sometimes I think it would be a relief to get the fuck out of here, get it over with, stop the struggle and disappointment. But I'm too damn pretty. Kidding. I got unfinished business. My soul is so unfulfilled that it squirms around in there making me very uncomfortable. And an unfulfilled soul looking for a place to land in the universe is bound to make a bad choice.
Keith keeps me going, Craig keeps me going, Krista keeps me going, Amanda keeps me going, JACKSON keeps me going, Ed keeps me going, Carolina keeps me going, CAROL keeps me going (I love her so much).
But beyond that, there is me. The guy that has been slithering through life with no purpose, no commitment, no inspiration. It has drained me, but it has not destroyed me. If I see Death coming before I set things straight it WILL destroy me. Then it will kill me as if it is squashing an insignificant bug.
I want more than that. I am a better man than I have shown the world.
I have to prove it.
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