There. It's after 12. I survived my 35th birthday.
I'm still alive, though around six months ago, that was an iffy proposition. Some might think I'm being overly dramatic, so fuck you. I don't give a fuck.
Almost six months ago, I was lucky to be alive after a heart attack that took 1/3 of my heart. That part is dead and will never recover. So no, you can't really recover from a heart attack. Not really. You learn to lie with it, cope with it. Try to teach your body to compensate for the reduced ability.
I am thankful for the heart attack as I have benefited from it in several ways.
First, I don't want to live that long. This illness shortened my life span considerably and I am now on track to die in my 40s, if not earlier. I have been preparing for death since I was 17 and I know what I really don't want in life - to be old and suffer the indignity of trying to make it to the toilet in time.
I have been insecure about my intelligence and memory since I was a very young person. If I were to still be alive at say, 70++, I am not sure whether I would have full control of my faculties.
Some people cling desperately to life as much as they cling desperately to anything. Whatever, man. I don't give a fuck. I believe that life is to be lived during our lifetime, no more, no less. When it's my time to go, it's my time to go.
I am scared of certain illnesses and conditions such as paralysis, dementia, Alzheimer's, Huntington's (which I don't have, I think. Thank God), Gehrig's disease, sarcoidosis and a bunch of other things. Death is not the least desirable outcome.
If I were to die in the coming months, know that I am happy to pass on before I get too old or sick to see existence as other than suffering.
I have stayed away from relationships and family precisely so that I don't have anything anchoring me to this world. And at the end of everything, I want my freedom.
Another thing the heart attack brought me was this clear realisation that I can discard people and things from my life. The liars, abusers, the hollow people - gone. Things that give me grief or are not my responsibility in the first place, things that are not my mess - gone. Thank you, or fuck you, but goodbye one and the same.
I have a renewed appreciation for time. I don't want to waste time on frivolous things or frivolous people. If you are stupid, hollow, delusional or simply annoying to me, take yourself - your whole entire stupid being - and shove it up your own asshole.
I'm streamlining my life for ease of passage. Like an intestine-friendly piece of turd that slides right out of the shithole and into the afterlife that is a flush down the hell of plumbing.