Thursday, June 16, 2016

Three Weeks to Live

The 27 club; appealing, dangerous, selfish and iconic. Would you want to live past 27?
Because the way I see it, the older I get, the more I understand why people throw themselves off buildings, smoke their lungs black, and drink all night. I (ignorantly) find 27 to be the perfect age to leave enough of an impression on the people you love, while simultaneously being the age where you basically understand the gist of life, and therefor are ready to call it quits and move on.
In less than a few weeks I will be out of the 27 club-maybe. I'm the first to admit that I am not opposed to the idea of living fast and dying young. I know that may make some people cringe, and may make a few people even sad (Ray+Ak). But it's the way I see it. We tiptoe ever so carefully through life, only to safely and ultimately arrive at death. I can't justify being delicate and poised anymore. I want what's bad for me, I want the fun, the late nights, the boozy mornings. This I say, until I get bored and sick of it and wish for stability. But! We'll cross that river when the time comes.
If you've seen me lately, you can relate the puffy eyes, and raspy voice back to this post. Or when I'm trying to be polite, I blame most of my appearance on allergies. But I'm having a great time, living on whisky and moonlight. One day it'll all cease to exist for me, and when it does I'd just like to know that I lived before I died.