Ikiru

What would I do if I found out I only had six months left to live?

I'd like to imagine that I'd live my life differently, with more passion and adrenaline, but it just doesn't compute. I could empty out my bank account, try to blow fifty-thousand yen the day before I died, and I'd simply fail. I'd make big plans — cross Europe on the Oriental Express; the richest, fattiest dinner at La Tour d'Argent; ride every roller coaster at every Six Flags in the country — but in the end, I'd probably just spend my last day on earth at a Barnes and Noble, skimming some computer book. I know how I want to blow my fortune, but I still don't quite know how to blow it.

It's sad. My life so far: I remember being alternately busy and frustrated or bored and frustrated. Okay, that's not completely true — I had my moments, much as it pains me to say it. But they're like sunny days in Seattle; you don't go there for the weather. The fact is, I always claimed that my reservations were some mode of self-protective foresight: don't get hammered cause you don't wanna live the rest of your life with a rotted liver, don't tell the greedy dickholes at Sparknotes what you really think of them laying you off cause you might need those bastards as references in the future. But now I think about it, I read all those Chicken Soup for the Soul books (for some reason, back in high school, all my friends thought I needed some spiritual salubrity; as a result, I now own pretty much the entire Chicken Soup for the Soul literature series, including three Chicken Soup journals and the travel-sized Chicken Soup), but it just doesn't work.

Fine, it's ridiculous to live like today's your last day on earth, cause chances are, it isn't. But I thought about it, and that's not the point. Even if I knew today were the end, I'd still live it timorously and apprehensively. I wouldn't live out my fantasies, kiss the Girl, play in the Championships, turn the world into my own personal Make-A-Wish Foundation (holy shit, I despise those goodie-two-shoes helping terminally ill children like suck-ups to God). But, I've been timid so long... now it's part of my constitution. There's no reason behind my behavior anymore, it's just who I am. And I find that very sad.