Look who’s turning into a postwhore.
Lately I’ve been seriously considering buying a gun just to point it into people’s faces. Not because it would give a kick or to taste the power with someone else’s life on your fingertip (although that must be nice), but simply to teach them the lessons I learned in the past. Granted, the rifle aimed between my eyes wasn’t loaded, but then neither would my gun be. I’m not a fucking murderer.
I made a girl cry in public once. I didn’t even know her name, we just happened to be sharing a restaurant table and conversation through a common friend. In the middle of it, she suddenly blurted out, "I wouldn’t mind dying. I’m at peace with myself and I am not afraid of death." I tried to explain calmly to her that she was wrong. Not in her opinion, but in her facts. That she was, in fact, afraid of dying. Afraid to death. She wouldn’t believe me.
It ended with me pointing at her forehead, telling her someone ought to put a gun right there to see what her reaction would be. If she would still be as brave as she claimed she was. With trembling lip, she said that happened once, that some kid at school had threatened her with a gun, at which point I went,
"Good! Please share, what were you thinking at that very point?"
She started crying like a baby, and I clapped because I had made my point.
Recently I had the same discussion with my (former) roommate, who stated the same thing. "I am not afraid to die." This very statement rises the hairs in my neck, because of two reasons.
One. If you say this, you’re lying. To me, but more importantly, to yourself. Lying your ass off. With the will to live as the most primal emotion inside our core, you couldn’t possibly be further away from the truth. Let’s get one thing straight, cock sucker: you are scared shitless. And that’s why I want to put a gun to the heads of those who deny it: to call their bluff. Because you, me, everyone but the most fucked up will drop to our knees and beg for mercy. Beg not to take the effort to kill them.
What about your parents? What about your past? Your plans? Your future? Don’t you want to grow old? Don’t you want to enjoy the life you have? Get married, live together? What about the children that you want? I want those bastards to beg for it. On their bare knees.
The arrogance of claiming this fearlessness is limitless. By saying this, you claim to be larger than life. To be above all living things with a will to live, put yourself higher than every single human who wants to make something of his life, and challenge fate head on. It makes me want to teach them, just as I was taught when I feared for my life, how deeply their lies go. How quickly their opinion changes when I say "Fine, then I’ll kill you on the spot" and actually have the power and lack of sanity to do it. Carrying a shooter just might do the trick. I want to show them how dear their heartbeat is to them, and what they will do to keep it. Shut their big head and live on in a philosophical modesty befitting of someone truly, deeply afraid to die.
Let’s get this clear once and for all. Your past, your future, and most importantly, your present are all caught in the weave that thin thread. The one that ends with the pull of my finger. Every single moment of happiness, everything you value, from your love to your hate, is caught within this gift called life. Because that’s exactly what it is: it’s a gift. It’s thrown into your lap, the choice to do with it whatever the fuck you want coming as two for the price of none. Subjectively, your life isn’t only the most precious thing you own, it’s the most precious thing conceivable. Its value is limitless. See this. Don’t deny it, it doesn’t make you immortal no matter how much you repeat your claim towards anything else.
Which brings me to number two in the list:
Show some fucking respect.
Last year, my world was shaken by a whole list of people who had committed suicide or died in an accident. Friend’s friends, but also people I knew personally. My mother died when I was 10. Tonight, a kid will die in a car crash. A mother and child will be run over. And the thing all these people have in common, is that they did not deserve to die. Every one but for those who were too sick to realize what they had to live for, had only one wish: to live. And yet, they died.
All this ignores an even more relevant group: those who died for us. Soldiers. Rebels. Students fighting the police, women fighting for equality, revolutionaries fighting for freedom. And you, who couldn’t go a day without your fucking cell phone, don’t you dare say it doesn’t matter. Even if they didn’t, these people still gave their lives, for you. Convinced that their offer, the ultimate sacrifice, their endless life, would better ours. Don’t you dare say it didn’t matter, because even if you weren’t simply dead wrong, you have no right to claim this.
See my point? You have no right. While next door someone dies, who simply just wants not to, you sit here and falsely claim your acceptance of death. Every single one of such claims are an insult, an ultimate show of disrespect for those who died at a moment when they understood the true value of life. Their bubble, containing everything they hold dear, bursting without ever giving them the choice. And here we are, taking all this for granted.
It would be ironic to say I could kill those who come lecture me about how pointless life is. Death is inevitable, better accept it like they did. But at times, I really wish I could. Just to prove my point. The notion what a blessing we are given has kept me going when the times were at their worst, when I hardly even still believed what I said when I told this to myself. But I knew it was true. This, the value of a life, is important to know, it’s essential. And subconsciously, we are fully aware of this, but the notion has to be there as well. We need to fully understand this part of ourselves and keep from being blinded by arrogance, which is so easily broken. It’s the foundation of our deepest emotions, such as hope and fear, and simply consciously realizing this will help you in making certain decisions, in grasping opportunities that we miss if we take them for granted.
With it being such essential knowledge, I can’t help but wonder why I am the only one so far who has shown this reaction. Am I really that crazy to at least try and enjoy life? Then, is sanity based on carelessness? Makes sense, in a way. But the way I see it, it’s a lot simpler.
Everyone is crazy, but I.