I am sitting here munching on goldfish and wondering just why. I lost my iPod in Port Authority and it was then swiped. I lost my license, my credit and debit card, my CharlieCard, my student ID...oh, yeah, and my iPod. Awesome. Then today I babysat and the family called a cab for me so they could watch the debate. I then left my laptop in the cab. Like a retard. Like a motherfucking retard. I don't understand. I just don't.
The level of anger I feel for myself right now is perhaps higher than I have ever felt before, though I have had extremely self-hating periods so maybe not. It was not helped by the fact I was talking to Chip and of course, of course I had to say stupid fucking things. Because I wasn't thinking. Apparently I never think! How can people say I am so smart? I have largely gotten over my self-deprecation, at least, to a serious degree. But I swear, it is taking a lot to not just fill this page with caustic wit to tear myself apart. Stupid hormones. I blame you.
And I just read how a junior at my town's high school suffered a brain hemorrhage from a JV football game. He's on life support or dead. Facebook and the news are not matching up. He's right between my brothers. His brain is swelling and his neurons are dying. And his family is watching. And he is dying. Or he is dead. All for a junior varsity football game against some goddamn prep school. People have died for more ridiculous things; but a high school JV football game?
It makes me being upset seem so stupid. It makes me angrier at myself and more frustrated. I learned this lesson already. I have learned and re-learned because haven't I lived it? Aren't I living it? Didn't I get ink embedded in my skin for this lesson? Don't stress over things like this. That's why I forgot the iPod. Dwelling on it would only make me more angry. So I didn't. So I wasn't thinking. So I didn't learn my lesson. So I'm again the idiot.
But he's dead. It's 1:27 and it all seems so ludicrous. Why am I up? Because I am upset. Why? Over something stupid that will be over tomorrow. Or the next day. I'm not even upset. I am sad. I am just sit here, stare at the wall, mind blank sorrow. Here's what I want to know. How d do you plan a funeral? Do you call the church and schedule it? "Hey, we need a priest and some sad music in the near future. Awesome." What about the funeral home? Who does this? Do you order a coffin? Is there a catalogue?
I'm sure I'll find this all out first hand. Who else is going to do it? My responsibility anyway. What about those cards they give out at wakes? How do they get them so fast? And who picks for that?
Because really, who is in a state of mind to pick? I don't even know this boy. I don't know the last name. I'm sure we have plenty of shared friends and I've probably even seen him before. What must his family be like? These morbid questions, the only ones who can answer them are the ones who probably forgot because of the immense amount of cortisol pumping through their system. I wonder what my mother will forget. I called her my mother. I really am out of it.
I am a mess. I want to be in his arms. I want to stop being angry. I want to shrink his brain and stop the bleeding. I want to replace the oxygen starved and pressure-killed neurons. I want to clear up the tangles. I want to be pulled around the rink again. I don't want to use the words father or mother. I want to use mom or dad. Or even mommy or daddy. I want to hug my brothers. I want to express my aching sadness so he does not think I am ignoring him or don't care and leave. I want to believe.
I want to sleep. So I can wake up. It will all be better in the morning. Or the morning after. Or the morning after. That will be a nice morning.
It's not that I don't value or respect death that I switch so unceremoniously. It is that death, or at least it's shadow, was what I grew up, really grew up with. I am a mess. But I know what's important. And it is not a computer. Or an iPod. It is not about not making mistakes. It is not about never fucking up. It's not about having people be happy with me always. It is getting past the mistakes. It is fixing it. It is being happy again. Death scared me happy.
But for now, sad is okay.
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