right here right now
As you ruminate the hopeless sands of time, did you wander out your days lost and resigned?
As I sat last night reading your lovely comments on my last post and contemplating how lucky I am that I am not planning my own demise (how thoroughly morbid of me, but what the hell) I came across this post on a blog I’d newly subscribed to.
(To save you from clicking through, Miss Nic of PinkNic has done a ‘bucket list’ – that’ll be things to do before you ‘kick the bucket’)
I decided there and then that if death was peaking over the horizon, I better make it hard for him to find me. So this is the start of my bucket list…its far from complete and in my opinion something that shouldnt be rushed.
(btw fao Death- this list is in no particular order, so don’t try to catch up with me. Thanks!)
So, first up, the thing thats most important to me – Travel.
Before i die i will…
- Visit Machu Pichu, Angkor Wat, Petra and The Pyramids before they crumble to dust.
- Have had just one week at a 5-star hotel on an island paradise, where I don’t mind, suggestions include Mauritius, the Maldives or Hayman Island, Australia
- Scuba dive on Great Barrier Reef, Australia
- Climbed one of the world’s highest mountains, i’m not talking about Everest here, but I want to climb something higher than Scafell Pike (highest mountain England) and Snowdon (highest in Wales)
- Visited the famous cities of the world – next up Venice, Rome, Budapest, San Francisco, New York, Vancouver…
- go back to Japan and see more than Tokyo.
- Lived in New Zealand, Australia, or Canada for at least a year.
- Danced in another country, whether that’s tango in Argentina, Salsa in the Caribbean, or swing dance in the US or go to the Love Parade in Germany again.
- Rode the Orient Express
- Backpacked, if only its a single country at a time.
but as i said, its far from complete…so what have I missed out travel wise? Where would you recommend? What would be on your list?
Kx
right here right now
He said why put a new address on the same old loneliness when breathing just passes the time
I might get through each day without worrying if tomorrow I might drown in the shower, get eaten by hundreds of semi-mechanoid spiders or squished into the ground by an invading spacecraft, but the question of my own mortality is something i’m terribly good about burying my head in the sand about; Death and I never mix in good company.
When you have no family history, the fear of death is based on the fear of the unknown; I’ve never even given blood for the fear of what they might find.
But the problem with burying your head in the sand is that it has a tendency to come back, bite you in the ass. Words that end in ‘biopsy’ or ‘scopy’ or begin with ‘cytol’ or ‘dyspla’ do not just belong in medical dictionaries to excite hypochondriacs; but exist to remind you not to take your body or what you put into it for granted.
Whilst i’m luckily (and hopefully) far enough away from the end of the mortal coil for them to save me this time, others have recently been not and despite their publicity grabbing ways, you can’t but help think what made me so special that I get to live when someone else dies? It’s not like I’ve been more saintly or more deserving of the good karma; in fact, I’ve got a lot less to live for, a lot less to lose.
But I can’t change that, I wish I could. This isn’t a time to dwell on what ifs, only what will be, what’s next for me. But, whatever it is, whatever happens next, i have to remember to get busy living; before I get busy dying.
Kx
I am an addict, I have an addictive personality.
Whether its cigarettes (15 years and counting), twiddling my air, chewing my lip, shagging around (that one has recently been broken), daily wine drinking; I do addiction with serious aplomb. (and i’m not mentioning the bad stuff…)
But my worst addiction – social media sites.
I’ve travelled through Myspace, Bebo and now Facebook, landing recently on Twitter. Like any addict I become bored quickly, always looking for a new fix, the starting up of a page, connecting to new people, building an identity and like everyone else, catching up old school friends lost in the sands of time; occasionally in a bitchy laugh – who got fat after school – kind of way.
But the addiction has changed recently; what i though was social freedom has turned into social paranoia, social inadequacy, social fear.
Social media lets you find out your flatmate has found a new flat before she tells you herself; or let you read ex-friends conversations about their forthcoming weekend that you know you are no longer invited to; or worst of all lets you find out your ex has got a new partner, is getting married, having a baby.
So, instead of allowing the internet to crack me up, to turn it into an obsession rather than on an addiction, I need an ntervention.
But what to do?
Should I remove all accounts, isolating myself? Or should I remove all those to which no sane person should be connected to – ex friends and ex’s which have leave sharp pains in my heart?
Do others out there feel the same way? How do you deal with the social paranoia these sites bring along with them? Is it ok to just opt out? Will I be missing out? Should I just deal with it?
Any advice and experience out there with this new kind of malaise is very welcome…
Kx