What I Want to Remember When I'm Dying

The first high- not those childish ones in your backyard with suspect characters- that first true one that made you learn something about intimacy- the one in your car, blissful dancing music in your ears and companions by your side. The first orgasm and the first time someone held you close, extended and beautiful as you rested, sleeping as if you loved your life. The first prolonged eye contact with romantic overtones, not only sexual, but intimate- those blue eyes opened up so wide you wished you could fall asleep in the womb of the azure. Sitting naked in your backyard, totally revealed in a drunken stupor, enjoying that cigarette and that breeze against your skin. Moments of anticipation- your heart moving outward with force and revelation. That moment where the only real mother in your life brought you out of numbness and you shed a true tear- the wet reality climbing down your cheek in a bleak reminder of the beauty of momentary affection and love. The last real hug you ever received, one that was gentle and comforting in your loneliest hour. The last time you looked someone in the eyes and saw them- wholly aware that they saw you too. The last, final ecstasy- whatever artificial or natural form if may have assumed in order to manifest itself in you- and how you knew why the world spins so enthusiastically about its axis. And knowing the reason you lived to see this day is summed up in these brief recollections. And also knowing that your physical existence and physical memory are the very essence of the metaphysic of your life.

anonymityrules

06.08.06