The older I get, the more I think about life and death. Not in a spiritual way, but in an "It's gonna happen. I'd better be prepared for what's coming!" -kinda way.
I recently noticed that, when I tell a story that happened in the past, I don't say things like "back in 9th grade" or "back when [someone] did [action]" anymore. Instead, I name the year. "In the summer of 2010", for example. Now that I'm able to state the exact date, I'm one step closer to being an old pile of human dust.
And to be honest, I'm reeeaaaally afraid of getting old. Not only is this, right now, the best you've ever looked/smelled/talked/LIVED, but also the moment where your self-asteem should be at its high-point. I can already foresee that I won't like the way I look and feel once I'm wizened, wrinkly and fragile.
Plus, what will happen to friendships, co-workers and old acquaintances? My grandma once told me that there are only few people left of what used to be the group of her class reunion. Every other year, one of them dies and thins out the list of the remaining. She is one of the "survivors", if you like. And with every relationship, no matter which kind, dies a piece of your past. Maybe even a bit of your inner child.
And I don't want this to happen!
I hope that my future-me will always keep its childishness and infantile humor. What would life be without vulgar dick jockes? I mean, heck, even the body parts of a whale are funny to me! And I wanna keep it that way, no matter how old I am!
So yeah, it's the getting old part that scares me. Not death itself. I guess, I don't fear the afterlife or whatever comes after getting X-ed out from this planet, because I more or less know how it's going to happen.
I'm gonna die a stupid death.
This is not an assumption about future events. I KNOW that my relatives will miss me, because this is what I intent with my life - living it in a way that I have a positive effect on the lives of my beloved. But I also KNOW that they will have an inappropriate smirk on their faces when they think about my death. It's what would suit me the most - a really dumb way to die.
I don't know, maybe with the creepiest smile on my face ever after having an overdose (of whatever). Or maybe a plane crashes directly onto my then-corpse, because the fuel-gauge had been maliciously stuck on "MAX".
It would be even more fitting, if it had something to do with being on the toilet...
I've spent DAYS of my life doing what you normally do on the toilet - and maybe even doing things you wouldn't normally do there... And since my humor is very focused on faecal-y stuff, too, it would be the perfect kind of death there is (for me) ! I once heard that you can die of brain haemorrhage when the vessels in your brain burst after pushing too much..... you know, down there....... And imagine how people react to the explanation of your death! Surely, after several years of calming down, my relatives will SHIT themselves when remembering me!
Max, the one who died shitting.
Max, the one who died shitting.
I guess, the artists I called out for their stupid lyrics like "Live while we're young" and the new #YOLO-movement know what's in stock for us. And what we should do to celebrate our youth.
And I know one thing that we should definitely enjoy! MUSIC!
(nice transition, huh?)
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~music time~
Atoms for Peace - Default
The Strokes - Trying Your Luck
Bloc Party - Ratchet
Disclosure - F For You
All The Colours - Second To None
Little Scout - Go Quietly
Maybe the rest of midsummer will get me out of this grim state of mind.
If not: I know what's coming... You hereby have the permission to laugh about/at me after my death. You're welcome.
Greetings
~Maximiwax'*
