Time is a never-ending string of possible and impossible events moving toward oblivion. I am aware that it seems rather morbid to start an essay, but I am not one to tiptoe around the facts. We are all going to die and it will happen. I want you to imagine death. Just take a moment, have a cup of tea perhaps, and imagine what death would be like. If you’re picturing black empty darkness, then I am afraid you are very wrong. How could there be any black empty darkness without you perceiving it? It would be nothing. You would see nothing and feel nothing because your soul has left the building. If you were a good person you’re probably partying with Morgan Freeman or Betty White. If you were not so good, I don’t think it would be wise to describe who you would be ‘partying’ with. No matter how we live our lives, the line will run dry in the end.
Now we have those very lovely existential crisis juices flowing. Let’s look at the string that is your life. I imagine you were born at a certain time on a certain date weighing a certain amount; congratulations that’s probably the biggest achievement any of us have to our names. Anyway, throughout your life, you have probably done things and been to places, and almost certainly made mistakes. I know I have. I once helped a friend from college get drunk enough to throw up freshly eaten curry, and it was still in whole pieces. Yum. Another time I slept way past my alarm for my night job and ended up losing that job on the second day. My point is we have all made mistakes, and they are a part of the metaphorical string that is your life. Your hopes to become a dancer, your dreams to marry a nice man even though you rather like the look of Keith. The same Keith who was last seen slumped over at a party after downing six shots and decided to make love to a burger, on the floor, in his pants. The same Keith whose biggest achievement outside of being born is getting kicked out of a pub for bringing up Brexit. What I am trying to say is that Keith is a bad choice.
Everything you do and say will always be on the string of time that is your life. Nothing can be erased, and there are no ‘do-overs’. This is a one-life run and if it isn’t then I would like a reset… please. I think when all is said and done we should be happy that life is our only chance. I think we should embrace that. We should embrace the chaos, the madness, and the Tuesdays of life. I realized this a little while ago while standing at the counter at work. It was a slow shift and the restaurant was as dead as a doorknob. I was so very bored, and it was a Tuesday, which is the worst day of the week. I was standing there at my counter and I was idly thinking of all of the things I would do when I get out as if I were a prisoner waiting for parole. In my defense, on days like that, I technically am. They will not let me leave because apparently ‘it’s my job’ and ‘it’s in my contract.’ If you ask me just sound like excuses to keep me in hell. However, as the clock was inching closer to 10 PM, I realized that I am wasting my life. I am standing here serving customers and pulling pints, then going home to binge watch the same episodes of Breaking Bad. Only to wake up and do the same thing again. Allowing myself to fall into a cycle of Work, Meth and Sadness. I had that thought that most people do, the same thing everyone wants to do around the new year only to give up in a week because they’ve had seven cheat days. I decided to turn my life around and would you believe me if I did? If you said no to that I would be truly hurt. I started going to the gym. I fell off of a treadmill. I started making food that isn’t chocolate spread like toast or cereal. I started smiling at work. That last one lasted five minutes because old women are secretly demons.
I imagine you reading this asking yourself, where is this seemingly deranged man going? He is rambling, talking about chocolate spread and string, as if any of that has anything to do with life. You would be right dear reader. This does seem like rambling, however, I promise you now, that is all about to make sense. Consider this a magic trick. Consider this nonsensical ramble a metaphor for the string of time that is your life. It’s messy and confusing and hard and sometimes a man called Kevin eats a burger like he’s trying to make love to it. But within that madness, there is a sincere amount of beauty. Chaos, so wonderful that you have to stop and just say ‘Wow’. Because as mentioned at the start, we all will die. But we don’t have to live dying, we do have the option to die living. We can seize the day in the most mundane yet thrilling ways. Order yourself that large coffee! Go play pool with your friends after work. Ring your mother just for a chat. Look at the moon and think, ‘Jesus Christ, that’s a big rock’. Take everything you can from life because we don’t know the length of our strings.
We could be dead tomorrow, and in the end, isn’t that the fun of it all?
Manic Writer 