The Parting of the Sensory

“There’s no work in walking and it fueled the talk
I would grab my shoes and then away I’d walk
Through all the stubborn beauty I’d start at the dawn
Until the sun had fully stopped
Never walking away from
Just a way to pull apart
Dehydrate back into minerals
A life long walk to the same exact spot

Carbon’s anniversary
The parting of the sensory
It’s old, old news to read
The parting of the sensory

Who the hell made you the boss?
We placed our chips in all the right spots but still lost
Any shithead who had ever walked
Could take this ship and do a much finer job
This fit like clothes made out of wasps
Oh, fuck it, I guess I lost

The parting of the sensory
Carbon’s anniversary
Just part of the game, if you please
Carbon’s anniversary

Who the hell made you the boss?
If you say what to do, I know what not to stop
If you were the ship who would ever get on?
The weather changed and for the worse
It came down on us like it had been rehearsed
Not like you hoped, but change will surely come
And be awful for most, but really good for some
I took a trip to the exact same spot
We’d pulled the trigger, but we forgot to cock
And every single shot

Aw, fuck it, I guess we lost

Some day you will die and somehow something’s going to steal your carbon

Some day you will die and someone or something will steal your carbon

Some day something will die and somehow you’ll figure out how often
You will die somehow and something’s going to steal your carbon
Something will die and you will probably just steal its carbon
Some day you will die somehow and something’s going to steal your carbon”~Parting of the Sensory by Modest Mouse

I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately. I have the time to think about other stuff besides Algebra now, which is delightful and tedious at the same time.

It’s delightful because I’m not a failure and my time can be devote elsewhere.

It’s tedious because now I have to deal with all of the stuff I put on the back burner for the past month or so.

I started making a list of all the things I need to do, but before I could finish I got incredibly overwhelmed and decided to not think about it.

But then I remembered how I can’t just push things aside because, like a bad case of staph, problems will fester and grow and rot your limbs off if you don’t do something about it.

Sometimes, things seem so incredibly pointless. Some day you will die and somehow something’s going to steal your carbon. Then what? You’re dead. Everything you’ve worked for no longer matters.

Everyone says that the point of growing old is to look back and reflect on what a good life you’ve had. Oh, that’s such a pile of poetic garbage. That implies that once you’re old you stop experiencing things, that you stop living. Just because you’re old does not mean you’re dead. Getting old is the in between stage. It’s between a life of suffering and an eternity of nothing.

I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately. I mean really thinking about it. Once you’re dead, there is nothing. Nothing. I can’t wrap my mind around not existing.

After lots of contemplating and losing of sleep, I have come to a conclusion: I live for other people. I live to make them laugh, to make them smile, occasionally make them cry.

Because the only thing in this life I can control is how I make others feel.

Now this is all well and good, but it does not solve my problems.

It does, however, give me the motivation to solve my own problems.

So all of that has been said to say this: Everyone dies. Whether you believe in an afterlife  matters not a bit to someone who doesn’t. I have found that the only true satisfaction I can feel is knowing that I made someone smile, or laugh, or feel love, or anything really. It comes down to this: If I caused an emotion in anyone it’s because I meant something to them. That’s all that really matters.