symbioidlj | Death Clock:

My personal day of death is: April 2, 2027...

I've got about 741,744,000 seconds to live.

I'm working on figuring out my relationship to death.

I think a strange death-consciousness has paralyzed me and made me into the inert mass of crap I am today.

But I intend on taking that and turning it around. I am working on understanding my relationship to the grim reaper. That black hole that's sucking me towards it. That singularity, known as "The end of my life"...

I am undergoing life-process changes. Metabolic. Mental. Psycho-spiritual. Consciousness.

A strange zombification has been occurring, and it's not something I particularly enjoy, but I'm trying to use this newfound "slowness"(retardation?) to exercise some prudent, deliberate thought process. Things are just too damned blurry, but at least they're not completely frenetic as in the days of yore.

I was talking to my friend Ann last night(Tony was there, but he's pretty quiet, so it was more of a dialogue with him listening in)... I sorta came to the conclusion that the past 27 years of my life have been yang. that frantic energy manic and crazy. I am now entering yin. mellow, stable. I need to learn to appreciate it, and work with it. I wasted the yang. I think I will approach a point of synthesis. I will reach a tao/integral consciousness. But it is something that must happen, and I will not force it.

Striving and desiring is inherently antithethetical to attain the results hoped for. A subtle apprecation of the truth lies in my grasp, but the full force of it is not quite clear.

Yes, I know this much. Reality is here and now. Getting ants in the pants about what could be or should be or was or could have been only distracts from what is and the experience of the present moment.

But there's still that apprehension that continually gnaws away. That death-consciousness. The Thanatonic mind. And as it eats away like maggots upon the mind of focus, it distracts from purpose. There is no clarity, because that tiny little itch is always scratching away. Scratch scratch scratch.

Somehow that Thanatos is supposed to say "Hey, dude... I'm here. I could happen any second. Get your ass crackin', boy!"

But there's two responses. Get the fuck out the way, or be like a fucking deer: Staring until it's too fucking late, and that fucking reaper just rips you a new one.

Currently and in the past, it's always been staring til it's too late... So I'm trying to get to that point where I don't just stare. Where I finally realize. "SHIT... there's some fucking lights coming at me damn fast, and if I don't duck, I will fucking DIE! and if I die, I won't accomplish that which I want to do." It's not a perfect analogy, but it's somewhat close to how that thought process is working on a subtle level of consciousness for me.