I would like to thank whatever agency of fate, destiny, chance or randomness has been active in my life over the last several weeks, most especially in the last 24 hours, in that it has reinforced my faith in the inevitability of decline. I would like to thank it for reaffirming that no matter how bad things may get, they can always get worse, and that no matter how skillful or capable I may be at one point, the opportunity always exists to descend into a complete, total and utter suckfest immediately afterward.
I would like to thank it for reassuring me that life has a sense of humor that is not only twisted but sadistic; that even the most basic tasks, such as bathing and eating, are subject to error and failure. I would like to thank it for reminding me that bad things don't just come in threes, they can come in the hundreds.
I would like to thank it for resurrecting my confidence in the impermanence of human companionship and compassion, and in the boundless vistas of human arrogance and callousness. I would like to thank it for reawakening my desire for complete nonexistence, to die and never have existed, and for the rediscovery of the healing, comforting aspects of self-inflicted pain.
And last but not least, I would like to thank it for allowing me to reexperience the fact that laughter can come not only from the grandest humor but from the stygian depths of desperation.
Thank you. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Why is this place less violent now? Why is there no stray bullet to come through the wall, lodging itself in my skull? Why no heart attack, or disease, or freak accident?
Ah, Chance. You are a fickle mistress, indeed.
But this, as well, will pass. As everything does. And eventually, hopefully sooner but probably later, it and I will fade ignominiously into obscure and overlooked decay, until the neighbors complain of the stink.
Life is a treasure: a gift sans receipt, an awesome miracle deserving of nothing less than the most rapt inattention. What could possibly compare? It's an Adonis among lepers, an Aphrodite among contagious maelstroms of crack-addicted bar whores.
Joy and happiness.
I would like to thank it for reassuring me that life has a sense of humor that is not only twisted but sadistic; that even the most basic tasks, such as bathing and eating, are subject to error and failure. I would like to thank it for reminding me that bad things don't just come in threes, they can come in the hundreds.
I would like to thank it for resurrecting my confidence in the impermanence of human companionship and compassion, and in the boundless vistas of human arrogance and callousness. I would like to thank it for reawakening my desire for complete nonexistence, to die and never have existed, and for the rediscovery of the healing, comforting aspects of self-inflicted pain.
And last but not least, I would like to thank it for allowing me to reexperience the fact that laughter can come not only from the grandest humor but from the stygian depths of desperation.
Thank you. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Why is this place less violent now? Why is there no stray bullet to come through the wall, lodging itself in my skull? Why no heart attack, or disease, or freak accident?
Ah, Chance. You are a fickle mistress, indeed.
But this, as well, will pass. As everything does. And eventually, hopefully sooner but probably later, it and I will fade ignominiously into obscure and overlooked decay, until the neighbors complain of the stink.
Life is a treasure: a gift sans receipt, an awesome miracle deserving of nothing less than the most rapt inattention. What could possibly compare? It's an Adonis among lepers, an Aphrodite among contagious maelstroms of crack-addicted bar whores.
Joy and happiness.