another night...

...whittling away

8:45 PM. Nothing to do. Having a smoke after finishing up the dishes. I sometimes wonder if I had COVID or not? If I had it, and didn't really know about it? I never got tested for the virus, and I never got an anti-body test to see if I had the virus, but I am assuming that I did at some point. No effects from it if I did, though (thank Dog).

I also sit here and wonder: do I think the world is coming to an end because it is, or do I think the world is coming to an end because my world is coming to an end (getting older)? I am 37 years old now, and I figure I can (probably) double the amount of years I've had on Earth so far, or maybe even more so. But after that, it's lights out. Some people believe in Heaven. Some people believe in Hell. Some believe in both. I believe both Heaven and Hell are places essentially every soul will visit at some point or another, but in the end, it is the cosmos we return to. As sort of a cleansing/de-identification process. To 100% forget the life lived and to be born anew, of sorts. And then there are others that think when you die, you're “as dead as a dead damn dog” – meaning there is nothing but non-consciousness, and no afterlife, and no new/Earthly life, either. Just a suspended participation in space or/and time. Nothingness, essentially.

It's interesting to think about.

But I am not dying (anytime soon). I try to stay healthy, eat vegetarian, with an emphasis on fruits, exercise, stay well, stay positive, etc.

Life can be hard though, at times. The existential moments of “in-between” time, like when I am waiting on something, or I have abundant time to kill, or an not doing anything interesting or productive at the moment – it's small segments of time like that that remind me that life truly is a struggle. We all want to live really full lives, but is that even 100%, or 90%, or even 60% possible? Never has that existential feeling been more abundant than in my late-20s/early-30s: like the Paramore song “Caught In The Middle”, I felt I was “in the middle” of life, itself. Not quite old, not quite young, and no benefits of being either, yet, no real downsides of being either. Just...there. A difficult time, for sure.

I know that every year, decade, or quarter century that passes, I am more and more and more grateful that I am not a kid anymore. I had a totally civil and decent childhood, but it seems like going through that obstacle course of a trial by fire of BEING young was monotonous and grueling, to say the least. That, and I had always been sort of an “old soul” (or, people started to call me that when I was in my early-20s), because of how I thought/spoke/whatever. But when I was a teenager (and before), the day-to-day activities and demands of being that age just wore on me immensely. I didn't “fit” well with life at that age. That, and I always had the mindset that the purpose of life is to live as much of it as humanly possible and stay healthy enough to enjoy it. So, that's what I do. And also, I liked the idea of “seniority”. Not “authority”, just basic respect and dignity, and appreciation any/all people can (and usually do) exhibit to those who appreciate and treat sacred the gift of being able to live into an old age. Not some maniac oldie who drives nuts down the road, and spits on the unfortunate, and curses the clouds above – but someone who understands that old(er) age and extended time on this Earth is something they (knowingly or not) worked for, and should not take what they have for granted. Wisdom (experience + knowledge) is something that can get someone to that old age, and also a thing that continues to grow (the wealth of wisdom) in the process of getting old. But that has to be treated sacred, too. At least in my eyes.

That's all. Thanx for reading.

... personal zine | blogroll | wiki