Deal me In.
It is a strange thing to wish to die - Nikka, Hitman.
It truly truly is.
But there are some moments where you wish that life would just stop right there and then. That you don't have to deal with the frivolousness of life anymore. That life could end. That you could take the remote control and press the STOP button. Then EJECT.
But life is never that easy, is it?
Of course, there is always the possibility of suicide but then again, you'll have to cope with the mental struggle of doing it in the first place. Which is always hard enough to deal with.
I thought of going for a run today but my body protested. Too tired, it said, dragging me back into the chair that I was sitting on. I willed my body but it rejected and resisted. So I stayed put.
And as I gazed out at the trees waving in the evening breeze, I wondered what does it really matter that I am here and now. Coping with 22 years of my life so far, I'm quite happy to call it a day.
No doubt, heading up the career ladder would be thrilling but not enough motivation for me to keep breathing air. I'm pretty sure that getting married and having kids would be wonderful as well but marital bliss and little "mini me"s calling me "Daddy" doesn't quite beat chewing on a cyanide pill just yet. Living the life I was meant for...yeah, that probably is the best reason for me to keep waking up each morning but sometimes, I still want the sun to die. Along with me.
Sometimes, life seems more of a fight every single day of your existence. You fight to get somewhere, you fight to get to the top of the heap, you fight and you fight and you fight. And at the end of the day, when the sun sets, you count your victories on bleeding knuckles through bruised and bloodied eyes.
Today, I thought about the ways I would want to die.
In a way, I would like to die a spectacular death. Like in a fireball of a car accident or having the bungy rope break when I decide to finally go for it. A death that I would remember even for myself.
But I juggled that with just disappearing. Like the Bride Stripped Bare (fantastic book, by the way. Depressingly so too.) Just...disappearing. And leaving a series of letters and diary entries. And leaving people to decipher where the heck did I actually go off to or did I actually kick the bucket.
And of course, the chicken shit side of me thinks of a relatively painless death. Morphine or some painless poison.
Tonight, I wondered why talking about death and about the topic of dying is such a taboo in Asian society. The common utterance would be "CHOY!" and inevitably some reaching out to touch the nearest thing made of wood. Is death so bad? It is nasty, fair enough, but something to be avoided completely? Why can't we, as rational human beings, accept death as much as life and to know and understand that it is a part of life that human beings are curious of because we never really know for sure what's on the other side? Deal with it.
But looking at the hand that Life and Fate and Death has dealt me so far, I'm quite keen to fold. And sit out.
For now.
It truly truly is.
But there are some moments where you wish that life would just stop right there and then. That you don't have to deal with the frivolousness of life anymore. That life could end. That you could take the remote control and press the STOP button. Then EJECT.
But life is never that easy, is it?
Of course, there is always the possibility of suicide but then again, you'll have to cope with the mental struggle of doing it in the first place. Which is always hard enough to deal with.
I thought of going for a run today but my body protested. Too tired, it said, dragging me back into the chair that I was sitting on. I willed my body but it rejected and resisted. So I stayed put.
And as I gazed out at the trees waving in the evening breeze, I wondered what does it really matter that I am here and now. Coping with 22 years of my life so far, I'm quite happy to call it a day.
No doubt, heading up the career ladder would be thrilling but not enough motivation for me to keep breathing air. I'm pretty sure that getting married and having kids would be wonderful as well but marital bliss and little "mini me"s calling me "Daddy" doesn't quite beat chewing on a cyanide pill just yet. Living the life I was meant for...yeah, that probably is the best reason for me to keep waking up each morning but sometimes, I still want the sun to die. Along with me.
Sometimes, life seems more of a fight every single day of your existence. You fight to get somewhere, you fight to get to the top of the heap, you fight and you fight and you fight. And at the end of the day, when the sun sets, you count your victories on bleeding knuckles through bruised and bloodied eyes.
Today, I thought about the ways I would want to die.
In a way, I would like to die a spectacular death. Like in a fireball of a car accident or having the bungy rope break when I decide to finally go for it. A death that I would remember even for myself.
But I juggled that with just disappearing. Like the Bride Stripped Bare (fantastic book, by the way. Depressingly so too.) Just...disappearing. And leaving a series of letters and diary entries. And leaving people to decipher where the heck did I actually go off to or did I actually kick the bucket.
And of course, the chicken shit side of me thinks of a relatively painless death. Morphine or some painless poison.
Tonight, I wondered why talking about death and about the topic of dying is such a taboo in Asian society. The common utterance would be "CHOY!" and inevitably some reaching out to touch the nearest thing made of wood. Is death so bad? It is nasty, fair enough, but something to be avoided completely? Why can't we, as rational human beings, accept death as much as life and to know and understand that it is a part of life that human beings are curious of because we never really know for sure what's on the other side? Deal with it.
But looking at the hand that Life and Fate and Death has dealt me so far, I'm quite keen to fold. And sit out.
For now.
posted by Poet at
8:16 AM
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