THIS IS YOUR LIFE.
GOOD TO THE LAST DROP.
AND IT'S ENDING, ONE SECOND AT A TIME.
Have a nice day.
I know that as soon as I stop growing I will start to die. This subtle point is less than a year off for me, when my body stops trying to become a woman and starts being a woman. I am painfully aware of my mortality. This isn't a bad thing. I know I don't have unlimited time to do things. I will be god damned if I don't live my life with gusto, make dumb mistakes, take risks, and live. It sure beats leaving a half-lived life, not quite dead but nothing close to the vibrant, joy-filled life I want.
When I am old, I do not want to be a calm grandmother sitting on the front porch knitting, all sparkle gone, calmly waiting for death to take me. I want to be as full of piss, vinegar, and vigor as I am right now. I want to be a kayaking, rock-climbing, kickboxing dervish of vitality. I will not go quietly into any good night. I will go into that good night dancing, wearing red shoes and telling the estate tax people to kiss my cold dead ass. I want to play poker with the Death as she takes me to whatever is out there.
I never want to fade. I never want to be pastel. I never want to be tamed. Moreover, I never want my fire to be banked. I will burn brightly until I burn no more, so help me. And I have 1,916,455,674 seconds left, statistically, to do it in.
Later, guys. I'm going to play Frisbee in the park with my dog.
