I've known some friends like this. They can go through the daily gauntlet that life serves, and come out with moments of fleeting happiness at the end of the (working) week, but then they also go ahead to state that if it were to end tonight, tomorrow, next week, by way of an unforeseeable tragedy, a home invader, or some marauding shark, they would be 'content' in the knowledge that they die. Die, as in marked death. I'm none too sure of how to expand on this, as I'm just paraphrasing a few pals' remarked thoughts on life's "underworld stage".

I have basically the same mindset, so perhaps it'd serve the better to broaden the ideal of being OK with the "being hit by a bus tomorrow" scenario. I'm a hopeful pessimist, in however you might like to spin that short descriptor of an individual's personality. I haven't accomplished much, I've long abandoned thinking without prompt, and am thoroughly, and merely, trodding in my travels through waking existence. I suppose it wouldn't matter, nor would I curse it, if I, alone, vanished from existence four hours from now. I love life, and would like to continue exploring it, but there's nothing really that frightens me about death (save for examining the countless scenario in which I could go). Life, take it or leave it.

I hate coming back here and seeing that nothing has been maintained/changed and/or noticed, but that's not putting the fault on anyone. Everyone has their own and unique burden to bear, and while I segment my life into oblivion, I will state that my one true goal here, at the TFP, is to proliferate and dispense knowledge, and have it stick (re: I'd like anything/everything I share to be catalogued into the archives, so I can forget about it tomorrow, yet remind myself when I need to, years from now). It's not much, but I give this community a special metaphorical totem of my own existence, in totality. There are stages, places, friends, strangers, awkward situations, fond / sad memories, and milestones, but if it were all to end, the only thing that would have me upset in my passing would have everything I worked in / towards portraying, being swept away with me.


I'll be darned. If the above blog post was written in the TFP, (recently) I wonder if some one else here finally found out that I, too, was quoting Twain as the bridge between life, death, and the bridge that connnects the two, through memories / dreams. .../my own random aside


I suppose if this thread gets axed / reincarnated into a slashed point of contention, I could offer up the scenario that, say if you, the reader, were to contract a vicious, horribly-agonizing and terminal cancer, then given only ~1-4 months to live, (make up your own timeline of expiration here) how would you handle the news? I think I've misread something up until this point.


Anyway: I'm only happy occasionally, I've at least got something to eat everyday, I've loved others but not had much love meet me in return, and I'm pretty much planning out my life as if I had ~20-infinite-years left, but... yeah. OK. I'd be content with dying any day now, if it comes to it. I wouldn't haunt the living for what-if were to occur, unless to see if it is possible (to haunt). It gets easier to let go once you've established / lost the reasons that hold you in place.