Sunday, November 14, 2010

Stream of Consciousness Pt. 1

Long time no see blog. This is a stream of consciousness experiment and I'll probably be doing many more of these.

Death and what it means.
Standing there with it yelling screaming begging to be recognized and all we’re doing is avoiding crying dying slowly and nothing makes sense except the LOUD angry PULSE of death and the quietness of avoidance and I can’t take it I can’t take it because everyone is ignoring what is going on and I don’t know what is going on except I do know that death is here DEATH is HERE and somehow I can’t wrap my mind around that so I pretend nothing’s wrong everything’s happy and good and life is worth it and there isn’t a man lying vulnerable and disheveled there isn’t a family knowing that he’s going to die there isn’t me knowing that he’s going to die and everything’s okay dammit but it’s not and everyone knows it’s not so we stand awkwardly mourning in our own way but our own way isn’t enough because we need to find some validation for what we’re doing why we’re here because crying isn’t enough and making quiet jokes isn’t enough so we sing and we sing and for some reason it’s the most beautiful and heart wrenching sound in the world and yet it doesn’t sound like anything doesn’t mean anything because God STILL ISN’T HERE and he’s lying there dying dying and nobody’s doing anything about it and all I want is to curl up and die curl up and take his place because look at him and look at me and the fact that there are fifteen people gathered in his room this one morning and I can’t even think of fifteen people who would come visit me all at once when I am dying so I hate myself for even forgetting the fact that he’s dying he’s dying so that’s all I concentrate on and I’m crying with the rest of them but it feels wrong because they all know him better than I do I’ve only spoken to him a few times but still I’m crying crying and watching grown men cry and it doesn’t bother me because for some reason it would be wrong if they weren’t and seeing teenage boys holding stoic holding still not letting tears escape and it makes me angry angry that here he is dying dying and these boys can stand there watching death pull and yank at his life and they can stand there and not cry so once again I feel wrong for crying because they’re not crying but then the adults are crying and the girls are crying and I think about how much more this would mean to me if God actually meant something to me and all I can think of is the time I lied to him about my faith about my religion and he called me such a religious girl and now he will never know the truth but he will die happier that way dying dying and I can’t take it because I’m standing in here crying crying and as I’m crying I’m lying lying because God is NOT HERE and he really should be because this man is struggling for life and we’re all struggling for life so we pray and we sing about our God is an awesome god and I cry and I cry because it’s all a big lie God is not awesome if he were this man wouldn’t be here dying dying and I wouldn’t be here lying lying because he would have switched his life for mine because he has done so much more than I can ever see myself doing and God isn’t fair God ISN’T HERE so I stand there and cry and watch as everyone else kisses him everyone else hugs him and I’m afraid to get too close because he probably doesn’t remember me but really it’s because I don’t want to face death head on because I was getting better getting better but then this happens and it all spirals downward down and now all I can think of is death dying and I can’t deal with it so I leave walk out in the hallway where everyone is standing crying crying and I’m crying crying building it up until the tears trickle down because I feel fake not and I feel fake doing it but doing it feels better so I let it out and I think of my death and how there will only be one or two people in my room when I’m dying so I wonder maybe it would be better if I die now die soon because then I won’t have to hurt the people later on in life because I see how all these people are hurting hurting crying crying and I wonder maybe if he was never alive or if they never knew him they wouldn’t be hurting I wouldn’t be crying so maybe I should just be gone run away hide and never meet anyone and never be close with anyone but then I start thinking of someone else and how much I like him how much I really like him and I don’t know what to do because now I feel this emotion tied to something so overwhelming and it’s not nihilism anymore it’s feeling it’s love it’s death it’s living so now I want to call him and tell him I like him but I can’t because what if he doesn’t like me what if what if and I can’t handle that I CAN’T HANDLE THAT so what do I do live in silence or just keep crying crying because that’s all I know how to do that’s all I know how to do.


  1. Your words are beautiful and even to this day will keep anyone and anything alive. To write is to take those feelings those people and immortalize them.

  2. Also I'm aware you abandoned this blog a long time ago but I enjoyed reading your thoughts for whatever its worth.