Sunday, September 10, 2017

Near death

I've lost count of NDEs but this time I tripped and fell forward and barely caught the arm rest instead of dashing my skull against the radiator and bleeding out on the carpet. 

That or suffering brain damage; yay, the only part of me that works in a "shine on you crazy diamond" kind of way. 

So I dodged yet another near death; and as a confirmed "bright"—those of us confirmed we are here for one life and with blaze with as much intensity while can—that would be a shitty way to have gone. 

I talked to theboy about steles—the giant "selfo" monuments rulers of Egypt hoisted about the place to declare "I was fucking here and here's all the awesome shit I did". 

We were playing with magic sand—the sand with oil combo that allows the sand to retain a shape for a short while—and I told him of these things as I made a pillar of magic sand and etched it with a plastic blade.

I said I deserved one; a stele. It was monstrously arrogant, to say I deserve a pillar of stone as a testament to my greatness—but it was true nonetheless and I "stele" feel that way.

That's comedy gold; a recognition of disabling ego and with a pun as a closer. 


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