This Blog Is A Time Killer

My mortality sickens me. The cold hard female-moustache reality on aging is that it’s a countdown. You are born and the clock starts -- tick, tick, tick -- and at some point the buzzer goes off and the dream will be over. More than god, or love, or American Apparel, this is probably the one thing the most people believe to be true. And it’s not a source of joy or happiness. Sure, the tragedy of it all is good for comedy; but the laughter is always at you, never with you. Whatever you do or say, it’s a joke. Ha. No, seriously. Ha!!

So I don’t like birthdays. And it’s the same way I don’t like funerals. It’s like, duuude, who wants to go to a Sadness Party, y’know? Thinking about it, I might actually prefer funerals. Birthdays are this big charade of happiness, but meanwhile all you really want to do is cry and say, “I’m sorry for your loss. That’s a tough break on those 365 days they took. We’ll get the bastard, I SWEAR IT!”

The thing is, when I go to birthday parties and cry and tell them we’ll get the bastard, I’m not just being nice. I really mean it. I’m going to get that bastard! DO YOU HEAR ME, TIME?? THERE'S NOT ENOUGH ROOM IN THIS TOWN FOR THE BOTH OF US! ONE OF US IS NOT LEAVING THIS WORLD/DIMENSION ALIVE!!

Have I mentioned my medication that getting older is sad and disgusting? I loathe it. And I loathe to use the word “loathe,” but I really do. It’s the perfect word for the occasion. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the first word invented. God created Time, then Loathe. Then Hate, Murder, Rape and Pestilence. Then Kittens. And Cute Girls. On a child’s first birthday, I always give them an index card with the word “loathe.” I think it makes the perfect gift (after an iphone!), plus it’s something they can grow with and keep forever.

Shouldn’t we celebrate birthdays and funerals the same way? One is: “Who’s dead? Let’s congregate.” And the other is, “Who’s closer to dying? Let’s congregate.” Either way, let’s get that Patron popping! Woo-Hoo!

Of course an old white man once told me that another old white man said, “Youth is wasted on the young, just as blackness is wasted on black people” And for some reason I think this is a good place to use that line.

Aging apologists like to point to my poverty, personality, and alcoholism as the source of my depression. Also, my average-sized penis (it's rude to point!). But definitely not my “maturation.” I am in fact getting better with time. But that is where the Criss Angel Mindfreak happens. Because I’m not getting better with time, I’m getting better with experience.

[earnest pause here]

This is what goads me the most about time. The vanity! The chutzpah! Everything we know and do is invested in time. Jobs, relationships, love, hate, it all seemingly fluctuates with time. But no! It’s all a ruse. Or so we hope...

The signs of our disbelief and rebellion are as persistent as the enemy itself. We never act our age. And never-turning-30 is always the-new-20 which is always the-new-47. I’ve been friends with this person for two months, but it feels like years. I’ve been blogging for a year and change, but it feels like forever. I can have sex for six minutes, but it feels like two. It’s all just friggin' numbers as long as the chick is hot!

We just have to work on ignoring Time. Separating him from our perception of experience. Either all experience is timeless. Or time only passes when we experience. Regardless, the seconds and minutiae don't matter. And that's what I'm here for, to make sure that prophecy is fulfilled. My "about me" should simply read "Time Killer." Sent here so that we would no longer be burdened by this oppressive institution of aging. The realm of our experience has no boundaries, time or otherwise. We just have to believe it. You could put a chicken in the oven right now, and cook it, and never have to look at the time. You can just experience when the chicken is done.

Go ahead. Try it. Put something in the oven. Maybe a meatloaf. Then forget about time...

Now go back the next "day" and see what you have. If you've been focusing, it should be a nice fresh tasty meat loaf. If it's burned, then try again, but this time THINK HARDER.

Anyage, I've gotten a little lost here, and I have to wrap this up because, uh, well the sun is going down. But just know, this is not the end. We're going to lick this mortality thing! We're going to do it together! And next time you see Time, tell him TAN said he's a dead man.


Related:
Eternal Now (audio) [TAN]