My dad is 65, was diagnosed with bone cancer 15 years ago and given six months to live. Since his childhood he drank like a fish, smoked a pack a day, and used hard drugs. He is still living. Came to visit me. He’s beat up. Can barely walk up the hill to my apartment. His mind is slipping. He speaks slowly. Moves slowly.
But he is still alive. I introduced him to a couple of the women in my life. His mind is slipping, but he still knows nice eyes, nice skin, nice ass, nice tits. I took him to Joshua Tree. He’d never seen it. Hard to show that motherfucker something he’d not seen in this country. He’s been all over. But this was new. He had trouble walking. Had trouble speaking. But every new bird, every new rock, every new flower blew his mind. When night fell, every new star– there is so much to see in this life. So much to know.
Of course, the old man was also deeply interested in the 19 year old Hong Kong chick walking on our hiking trail. Son, you better make a move on that. She’s interested. Tell her to take your picture.
You will lose your mind, your body, your dick– whatever you value. But life still has things to show you. Life isn’t done with you. I get why people kill themselves. I get it, but they’re wrong. Seeing a god damn road runner drinking from a mud puddle changes my life every time. And it changed the life of a 65 year old man who I’d thought had seen everything. You could live for a thousand years and never run out of wonderful shit.
I get why people kill themselves. I contemplate it every day. Still. Don’t. It’s an arrogant thing to do. It’s saying: I know all the secrets. Bullshit. You never know. Tomorrow a seagull could steal a kid’s ice cream cone in front of you and you’ll laugh harder and better than you ever have in your life.
delicioustacos 
“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
– Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 5
You always know how to turn earnestness and sincerity on its head in the last line of a piece. You’re the fucking Rod Serling of humor blogging.
I really like your writing lately dt. seems like you’re finding your voice again…or maybe you just got laid.
“Tomorrow a seagull could steal a kid’s ice cream cone in front of you and you’ll laugh harder and better than you ever have in your life.”
You know…that does make tomorrow sound worthwhile.
Like that Cake song, “End of the Movie.”
People you love
Will turn their backs on you
You’ll lose your hair
Your teeth
Your knife will fall out of its sheath
But, you still don’t like to leave before the end of the movie
People you hate will get their hooks into you
They’ll pull you down
You’ll frown
They’ll tar you and drag you through town
But, you still don’t like to leave before the end of the movie
No, you still don’t like to leave before the end of the show
Our time on this sphere is so short, a handful of decades if we’re lucky, so why rush the process? No matter what your problems, no matter what dilemma you find yourself in, if you’re alive, you have the chance to think your way out of it. Or maybe just outlast it.
His mind is slipping, but he still knows nice eyes, nice skin, nice ass, nice tits. I took him to Joshua Tree. He’d never seen it. Hard to show that motherfucker something he’d not seen in this country. He’s been all over. But this was new. He had trouble walking. Had trouble speaking. But every new bird, every new rock, every new flower blew his mind. When night fell, every new star– there is so much to see in this life. So much to know.:
Just the few minutes we talked before we went to LAX I gathered some real nice feelings about her attitudes. She was very close to her Dad (always a plus) and she had a sincere like for many other good practices. I can see she knows quite a lot about things mechanical. I don’t want to pressure you but I find her smart, down to Earth and ever so attractive. Her skin was very beautiful, her eyes, her height, her whole stature was primo. And don’t think I’m shallow but the two of you would be bound to have handsome children. Don’t let me push you, well maybe a little.
Staying in LA is a form of suicide. Get out!
Maybe life does have things to show me, but is it worth the pain? When I die, not only will no one care, it will be at least months before anyone notices. Every day it’s a tough decision between going to a job I hate or blowing my brains out.
That is a beautiful piece of writing.
Did you see that episode of Louie where he runs into his old comedian friend played by Doug Stanhope who’s down on his luck and about to kill himself? He gives this speech at the end where he tells the friend that it’s a selfish thing to do, to kill himself. That life is bigger than him, which I agree with. But then after that he basically tells the guy to go fuck himself. He’s like, “hey, I hope you don’t kill yourself, but I gotta roll. See ya!” What the fuck, you don’t tell the guy to call you the next day, maybe you can get him a gig or whatever, offer to give him some support? He hadn’t talked to the guy in 20 years or something, and I guess when Louis was writing the episode he didn’t want to come across like he had all the answers. Still kind of a shitty ending, Louie came off looking pretty selfish, too. Maybe that was intentional.