no resolutions.



when it’s time to die – i will be the only one who can do that for me.
so when it comes to my life, i will do that for ME as well.
that makes sense to me. saddest thing is that it doesn’t make sense to everyone else.

ahhh well. may you lie on your deathbed thanking god you never saw the world like you wanted in your youth.

—–

the new year is fast approaching.
no idea yet what i’ll be doing to bring it in properly.
but i have a few ideas on who i want to spend it with: my friends that make life great.
the friends that, like me, live in their imagination.

so i’m titling my december 31-january 1 celebration:

NO RESOLUTIONS. JUST RESERVATIONS

we’ll be eating well, drinking more, laughing harder and loving the way we live, knowing it won’t end with the moon.
we’ll remain in our imagination as we do now.

perhaps under the lights of vegas. and under the spell of vodka and a strong narcotic (jokes).

(side note: do not ask if you can attend. if you weren’t personally asked, you weren’t invited. that’s the asshole in me)

—–

side note: reality shows about the pointless lives of others are for people who have absolutely nothing to brag about in their own lives.

—–

the other day 5 people (in different cities across the US) in a 10 minute period told me: “you really know how to live.”
i thought i was going to die. it would have been some great irony of life, right?

but i didn’t. so i’m still living.

something about me: (not sure if i’ve said this before)
every year i write out my own funeral plans. i don’t want to die and people say “he would have wanted to be buried in a brown suit” or “he would have wanted this church” knowing damn well i don’t want a church service. buy out the bar and have a memorial service. drink up!

it’s not morbid. it’s smart. go out the way you want to go out!

—–

my birthday is in a couple of months. i’m in the “all my friends are married and having babies” stage.
this stage is nice. it’s all about renting tuxedos and getting fitted for bridesmaid dresses.
it’s all about calling yourself uncle and aunt and thanking god it’s not you with the crying newborn on the plane.

so i support and stand up and help raise like the village is supposed to.
and then i provide the shoulder when the divorce papers are signed or the affairs happen.

here’s to this stage…
and although many of us have been losing friends to random acts of death, we are years away from the funeral program collecting stage.

so i raise my glass and celebrate life (until i’m ready to go).

—–

winter is approaching (the cold is already here) and i want to hibernate in a comfortable bed with a comfortable body.
perhaps yours.

—–

so live, folks.
98% of the people reading this wake up 5 days a week to go fulfill someone else dream.
what about your own.

the other day i tweeted: “if you don’t like your job – quit”
everyone responded with “are you gonna pay my bills?”

what’s got you afraid.
who made you a slave to your bills.

i understand working to support a lifestyle, but if you can only live that lifestyle 1.5 days a week, and maybe in your old age, is it worth it?

no i won’t pay your bills.
fuck your bills.
live the life you want. unafraid. unchained.

—–

so i’m hungry and i’m going to eat now.
peace.

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