Stop And Listen

Every couple of months or so, ok every other hour of my life, I stop and think to myself "what the fuck are we doing here Francis?" I talk to myself in the third person. I mean why am I prolonging the inevitable. The whole growing up thing.

I don't want to grow up because if I did I couldn't be a ToysRus kid! From bikes to trains to videogames theres a million toys for kids! I don't want to grow up because if I did I wouldn't be a ToysRus kid!

That one ad explains my whole life in a nut shell.

Then the other day I'm taking a piss at Lonestar and we have those newspapers that hang above the urinals, an article caught my eye. It was about this 23 year old guy that died in a car accident. He was killed when a 40 year old man high on crack cocaine blew a red light and broadside his car. The thing is, is that the kid who was killed was from the complete opposite spectrum of the guy who killed him. The kid, in a sense, had his shit together. He had just graduated from ISU and was about ot move to St Paul with his girlfriend to start his career, then blamo over in an instance.

This got me thinking about my own life. If I died today, tomorrow, next month, anytime soon, my last thoughts to myself would be, "so this is how I go, what a waist." My fear of failure is keeping me from attempting anything at all. I would be like wow I had a little fun with sporadic moments of joy with prolonged periods of depression and self doubt. All my ideas would go unrecognized and disappear in the flash that it takes my life force to extinguish.

"I am 400,000 years in the making and so is my death."
(pesrsonal quote I wrote. I've been using it a lot lately but haven't got any positive responses)
I guess most people don't think on the level I operate?

So here I am in all the the magnificence that goes into making every person on this planet, and I'm wasting it. That whole attitude of tomorrow. Well what if there is no tomorrow and in that last instance before you go over the void to find out the answer to the ultimate question we all learn in the end, you have regret? Your last emotion is regret. Not how I want to go out, even if there is a heaven.

So what the hell am I getting at with all this babble about death, regret, and wasting my life. Well I've decided to put my plans on hold (If I ever had any?) and do something drastic. Go on the ultimate adventure criss crossing the United States, in search of my self wile writing a tail worthy of Jack.

Ok it sounds good now but just wait in a week or two I won't even listen to my own words and this will all have just been another one of my novel plans with no action. But I don't know, I got the travel bug and the fear of death on the road is no greater than the fear of death at home.