it feels good to feel good

for the last week or so, i’ve been feeling really good, really happy, and it’s weird what a vicious cycle feeling good is — being happy about some stuff in my life makes me more appreciative of other things, like friends or good times for example, and being appreciative of those things and feeling lucky (or “blessed,” barf) makes me even happier. it’s like i’ve been on a positivity bender for a week now.

passedout

“WOO!”

and it feels great.

it’s a nice change of pace from my usual disposition, ranging of ‘slightly depressed’ to ‘very depressed.’ and while i feel like i should somehow prepare myself for this all to come to a crashing halt, for the moment the happy things stop occurring, i feel too good right now to worry about it. i know the end will come, the misery will return, and things will go back to normal but i’ll deal with it when it happens. no point in getting bummed out while i’m still feeling so good.

why am i feeling so good, anyway? steph and tony’s wedding, seeing lots of great friends i don’t see very often, the suit i put together looks great, we’re building a garage, we bought property up island, i got five new young hens, one of my adult hens went broody and is now sitting on 8 fertilized eggs i bought for her, i finally set up a micro drip irrigation system for the vegetable garden, the new twin peaks is as weird and fantastic as ever…that sort of stuff.

something else i want to note about this happiness bender: it makes me prone to the sensation of emotions welling up. like, i’ll get a text from a good friend and i’ll almost want to cry because i feel so grateful to have that friend in my life. similarly, if a really killer anti-humanistic song comes on in my car, i shudder with utter contempt and contemplate the of plunging all of reality — people, planets, the entire universe, all of time — into an endless void of nonexistence: a “red surge,” as i recently heard a convicted killer call it, except i associate red with rage and anger so i’d probably describe my welling up of negative and abstract feelings as more of a “black surge.”

anyway, being happy is just making me feel really emotional in general, i suppose. it’s kind of interesting. i like feeling things.

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i think people would be happier if they thought about death more.

c’est la vie

a long time ago, the father of a good friend of mine died. my friend was really, really fucked up for several years following, breaking down and crying at anything that reminded them of their father. it was pretty sad but i was also surprised because i just couldn’t imagine myself reacting like that to anyone’s death. i mean, i think about death all the time. i imagine various people dying at any given moment and how that would feel; i imagine myself dying in car accidents or plane crashes, from medical causes, whatever.

i wouldn’t say i’m obsessed with death though. instead, i like to think that i have a healthy awareness of it, and i believe that’s good because it makes death a lot easier to accept when it does actually happen. i’ve never been surprised by the death of anyone i know—i expect it, even if it’s sudden and out of the blue. for instance, i could crash my car driving home from work today. or a plane could fall out of the sky and crush me here at work. i could fall off a ladder at home tomorrow and crack my head open. these things could happen to anyone, any time, and they do—they’re a reality. the people they happen to aren’t just imaginary or pure statistics, they were real people too, with families and friends and lives and ambitions, just like you and me and everyone else. there’s no reason i couldn’t end up as one of those people tonight. so every moment of life is like a crap shoot we might lose at. that’s pretty much how i think of it.

i don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. i actually see a lot of beauty in the ebb and flow of life, of both coming into and leaving this world. i can’t explain why, it just feels like such a big picture that is perfectly balanced. like if there could be a perfect song or piece of art, life on earth would be it. and death is a part of it—without it, the picture wouldn’t be complete, it wouldn’t be perfect any more. it would be imbalanced and shitty, an amateur’s creation. i’m honoured to be part of this perfect thing, death included, and wouldn’t change it if i could.

and you know, thinking about this stuff doesn’t make me unhappy. i actually have a lot of laughs making obscene, irreverent cracks about death and dying, so many that i’d even say i’m happier in my daily life from thinking about it so much. no kidding.

i think i would be asking a lot if i hoped for other people to feel like i do about death, but i bet a lot of people would have a much easier time dealing with it if they did.