This article isn’t meant for those of you who are indisputably close to the grave, more for those whose number can only come unexpectedly.  Please do skip this one, if you eat mori for breakfast every day.  Much love.

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I wanna make artistic things happen.  It gets difficult sometimes, u kno, all the usual reasons.  For some those reasons outweigh the desire, but that is not true of me.  I usually have something on my mind, trying to get free.  Ambitions, frustrated but not wholly defeated.  You can see my attempts from time to time.

I see writers non-writing and think these people don’t have my ambition, and maybe that means they also don’t have my fear.  Again, I’ve expressed this before, but death haunts my steps.  As much as my naturally upbeat brain juice makes me feel like a future in which I continue to exist will get much better in time, something else cuts through the optimism to say that nobody is guaranteed any amount of time.  I could die or lose critical faculties at any given moment for any given reason, lose forever the chance to have accomplished something cool.

On my most recent somewhat related post, I got a lengthy comment that could be construed as hectoring me on my elitism.  I’ve gotten comments like that before, whenever I looked down my nose at the mendicants.  But let’s just assume for the moment that I am truly better than the lowly masses in this.  That I have some sparkling potential that unspent will constitute an egregious loss to the whole of humanity.  Don’t I owe it to the people to win?  To live long enough to succeed?

Comedy paragraph aside, back to business.  The business of lamenting mortality, or lamenting the creative energy wasted in service to Tha Man.  We’re all (anybody lowly enough to read this because they are not on secret rich people internet with uncle jeffrey’s ghost) getting drained in this way, it’s true.  But if you want it hard enough, you can make some things happen.  Like I have, here and there, as able.  Just think about what you’d like to have done before you die, because who knows when that’s going to happen?

Get crackin’.

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