Euthanize THIS

21 Nov

Tangibility. Does it matter?

If I’m thinking really hard about Wyclef Jean vs Tupac Shakur, is the first more real than the latter just because he is physically alive? I’m not convinced that distinction makes a difference. They’re both just as real/unreal as Martin Luther King JR or Alexander the Great or Jesus or Mr. Rogers. So if people that I don’t see regularly, or at all, are nothing but a mental schema of who i concieve them to be, with behaviors and attidues I can predict and translate to abstract situations, then if they’re physically alive is not a factor. I guess that would be the egocentric argument: things only actively exist in relation to their impact and acknowledgment by me. I’m not confidant in that, I don’t really want to think like that. I guess there are 3 ways i can see this: People only exist/have existed in their relation to 1) Me 2) Other people, history, society at large or 3) a persons existance is concrete and doesn’t need the validation of others to be real.

But when people to you aren’t alive anymore, there is one big, looming problem. I can’t ask dead people anything. Like, ‘hey grandma, tell me what it was like to get divorced with 3 kids in the 1950’s’, or ‘ grandma, does our family have a history of heart disease?’ or ‘ what was i like as a chlid?’ But then again, memory is so…subjective, and maniputaled by emotions, perception and some chunks are filled in and others are blocked out, and frankly, it’s not that reliable…particularly in old folk. So when a grandparent dies, what is it that we miss? Their advise? We can imagine what they’d say.Their role as the leading family historian? Maybe, but they’re not acurate half the time. Do selfish reasons that make death of a grandparent so sad? That now we are the second leading generation, instead of the third, in the family tree, and that it scary? The fact that our genes are blood are suseptible to death too? The reality check of seeing your parents break down into irrational tears, stumbling off the pedestol of adulthood they once gloated from?

Today was the troy camp thanksgiving festival and earlier smash and even earlier the psyc midterm and finally timb. and i threw a quazi-impromptu appartment social. I felt disturbingly happy all day, nice and dazed and distracted before i have to fly home for the funeral tomorrow. Woops, today, its 4 am.

I’ve thought so much these past few days my head hurts. But i’ve also been quazi-euphoric. I guess my conclusion for the past few days was that I have to live large or go home, no regrets and throw down bets, ignore taboo and societal ques, just try and have as much fun as possible because life is here today and gone tomorrow.

Was this cheesy and cliche enough? Do i need to throw in more idioms or metaphors? I’ll leave ‘er be

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