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Goodbye

Goodbye - I've left for a better blog.

New Plans

I need some time. Some time to reorganise my thoughts, some time to decide if I should go on with this blogging thing. As New York post-punk band We Are Scientists says, this scene is dead and I'm still restless.

Where to go on from here? My schoolmates hardly blog these days, so definitely my readership won't come from that anymore. Maybe I'd go undercover - writing for a different audience, an audience that I do not have to worry about offending in real-life.

This would definitely give me more freedom to write what I really feel and see, rather than having to tone down my content lest the people I know start thinking of me as a lunatic and a neo-Nazi activist.

Nothing's confirmed yet. I need some time to think about what I want to do, and what my options are.

No Surprises - Radiohead

A heart thats full up like a landfill,
A job that slowly kills you,
Bruises that wont heal
You were so tired, happy,
Bring down the government,
They dont, they dont speak for her
Ill take the quiet life, a handshake of carbon monoxide

No alarms and no surprises, no alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
Silent, silent
This is my final fit, my final bellyache with
No alarms and no surprises, no alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises, please

Such a pretty house, such a pretty garden
No alarms and no surprises, no alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises, please

OH CRAP.

I left Keane, Hanson, Spice Girls and All Saints on repeat on my computer with the speakers off.

And I didn't realise it.

Now they're all in the top 10 list in last.fm.

Now everyone will think I'm fruity.

Death

OK. Let’s face it. We all gotta die sooner or later. What are you going to do about it?

Starting clinical postings in school means that we see people who are dying all the time. People who slowly lose their bodily functions one by one, until they have nothing to call their own anymore.

First a lung cancer patient starts having shortness of breath. And you know he’ll never be able to breathe comfortably for the rest of his life. Ever.
Then he loses the function of his lungs so badly he needs to be on oxygen supplementation, having tubes routed from a tank or wall socket to his nose. Forever.
Then he becomes so breathless he can no longer talk. Whatever he wants to tell his kids, it’s too late. He’ll never be able to speak again.
Then he has to have a tube placed in his chest to remove all the fluid the cancer is leaking into his lungs, or he’ll literally drown in the fluid. The doctors don’t plan to remove it.
Then he becomes too ill to even sit up.
Then he becomes too ill to even swallow his food.
Then he becomes too ill to even breathe.

The family would say he died in his sleep. But that’s bullshit. The dying process was a long and painful one. It just so happened that the cancer killed his consciousness before it killed his organs.

This death thing, it’s going to happen to you, and to me, and to everyone you and I know. It’s a painful process, and no-one knows what comes after death. At least, if you aren’t religious. Religious as in, living, breathing the religion and truly believing it.

Not just grabbing onto the most convenient religion when faced with one’s mortality. It’s as stupid as trying to keep oneself afloat by holding on to a soggy pillow. And with so many mutually exclusive and contradictory religions around, most of them got to be wrong, or even all of them. You can’t have 2 religions that are both opposing and true at the same time.

It’s especially creepy when you think about it. When you reach adulthood, your childhood is literally dead. Gone. Just like the man with the cancer. All that’s left are some mental photos hanging on the wall, some vague recollection of what cartoons you used to watch on that old TV. When you reach 21, your 20 year old self dies. When it’s Friday, your Thursday self dies. The me that started typing out this sentence, is already dead by the time I key in the full stop.

Live every day like your last they say, but it’s never going to happen. The thought of living in a manner that prepares you for death, is depressing enough. So we distract ourselves, thinking about other things such as career, entertainment and other things that are as distant as the idea of death as possible. That, while parts of us die continually. That’s the only choice we have.

Thinking about death makes one miserable. I’ve had sleepless nights trying to imagine what it was like not to exist anymore. How does one reconcile the fact that one is simply unable to perceive non-existence? If you don’t exist, you can’t perceive.

Best to keep on distracting ourselves, at least we won’t be as miserable until we die. But. Easier said than done. I wonder how many people on Earth with chronic insomnia are being kept awake by this death thing. We are so accustomed to life, we can’t imagine ourselves dead and nonexistent. For me, death’s such a big unknown I don’t even know if I ought to fear it. But then, we all die anyway. So even if we fear death, what good does the fear do?

I wish you all the best for distracting yourself from the fact of your eventual death.

What should I blog about?

I have 2 foot ulcers.

Today is Polling Day. I hope the opposition parties get a fair share of what they have been working for.