the birth and death of the day

"... like sand through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives."

Anyway, that saying is actually quite true. I have been obsessed (in the best form of the word possible) with death for quite some time. When I was much younger, I was really into gore, and I used to try to find as many videos online of people actually dying. I was kind of a sick fuck in high school, I admit. But that fascination got old, quickly. There were only so many car crash videos or pictures with people's heads smashed in that I could handle anymore. That fascination slowly morphed into wanting to know more about the philosophies of death, dying, religion, finality, loss, heartache, tragedy, and other equally jarring emotional responses.

As a preface, I should probably state that all of the losses around me that I have ever encountered have been tragic. Nobody in my family or my circle of friends who have died have ever been terminal. We all think to ourselves, "man, when I die I want to die quick and painless!" Which this may be a great idea, given the fact that we are human and we try to avoid pain at any cost, but it is actually a more terrifying mode of death to the loved ones who surround us. But then we all wonder who would be at our funeral? Who would be there to show their respects when I am gone? Have there ever been people in your life who become depressed, and one of the things they say is that they are scared nobody will be at their funeral? We wish so badly to be loved and accepted in life, and the final page in our book is the event of our death. If we feel like we spent a life with no love, what kind of a life is that at all? As I have studied this phenomenon of death, the idea of terminal illness is slowly revealing itself as the better option. There are so many things you can take care of with loved ones, your business, and the community, that would have no chance if you dropped from a stroke.

In the case of a girl my age named Eva Markvoort, she had battled cystic fibrosis her entire life, and finally succombed to the disease in March of 2010. She was in a documentary released in Canada about her search for a lung transplant. She recieved the transplant and became healthy again for a little while, until her body started to reject the lungs, and once again she was put on the waiting list. Her blog had thousands of followers, where she spoke about love and family and friends, and she never lost hope, or became depressed by her disease. She was able to see the love around her as she was spiraling towards death. I became very fascinated with reading her blog, partially because she was my age, and partially because I am so fascinated with terminal illness, and I cannot even fathom what it would be like to be aware of your fate. It is just as tragic to lose someone to terminal illness, but at least you can make sure that nothing was ever left unsaid while they are still alive.

Here is her last video, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=viNEhFQe5o8&feature=related

It's never really occurred to me until recently, but I try to hang on to everyone who comes into my life, fearing losing them. This also probably explains why I become so afraid to get close to people, because I am aware that it's only me that I have to rely on at the end of the day. It's not that I am not aware or that I don't embrace impermanence, I do, and I also know that there is a richness in experiencing loss and tragedy that people need. You cannot feel the highest highs without feeling the lowest lows.

The people I have in my life who I love dearly are very few. My acquaintances are very many. I have a very good way about me to become friends with everyone who I meet, but getting close is almost a rarity. I would rather not get close than get close and lose them. I realize this is a silly idea to have, and that I am wasting time by not enjoying these people or opening up to them and sharing my joys and my sorrows, but sometimes I feel like maybe they just wouldn't even care. And maybe I would spend all this time trying to become close to people to only find out they didn't actually care. Then is that considered time wasted? I feel I am stopping before I get to that point. To become close to me is a fucking feat of strength and I wish you the best in your attempts. If I don't latch on, I can't feel anything, right? Wrong. The fact that it is so hard to get close to people is more depressing to me than the idea of being close and losing them. It's an uphill battle that I fight every day, and sometimes I do become depressed. Usually on a Sunday night, when it's just me laying in my bed, and nobody has called or texted for the entire day. Is that a selfish thought?

As this blog post comes to an end, it's time to think about our lives and how we are living them. Are we showing our loved ones that we love them? If you lost them tomorrow, would everything be said? Your life will never be the same after losing someone, but you learn to live differently. You live a new life. And would you ever take it back?

Rest in Peace: Uncle Mikey, Andy Ekstrom, Aunt Ina, Gary Fontes, Chris Becker, Arloa Singhsnaeh, Pat Handy, and all of my grandparents. I miss you all.