portrait of the author reincarnated (the end)

butterflies are free…of the constraints of time. what do they make of their 30 days of life (of course, they don’t have ‘days’, to them it could be 30 years, minutes, seconds or no time at all.)


the truth is that i think about my death a lot more than i used to, but not because i’m depressed or psychotic or suffering from an incurable disease. no, i think about it because i want to have a say in it. don’t think i’m a control freak (well, maybe a little tiny bit), but if i have a choice i would like to be the one to determine when i die. it’s possible that i won’t have that decision to make — that some accident will befall me; my body may just give up; i’ll fall asleep one night and take the next train out of the station.  and that’s okay with me. it’s just that my inner me, my psychic abilities tell me something else…that i’ve got a lot of years ahead of me (is that what everyone thinks until it’s not true?) but i just have this sixth sense and abiding belief in what’s next–and more time is more time. what i don’t want is to be dependent upon strangers to take care of me should dementia settle in, take roost in my crow’s nest. i’m not worried about being a burden, it’s not that, i just don’t want strangers — which they would be — it’s the fate of the last survivor of a family — i don’t want strangers responsible for my well-being such as it would be.

so i think about working until i can’t any longer and then i see some relief in just putting an end to it. this is not morbid, no, for me it seems realistic and clear-eyed about my future; it’s probably the most thought i’ve put toward my future since, since, well, since ever, but age does that. the future seems closer, almost tangible really–you’ll see what i mean when your time comes, when the time of your life, literally, is shorter than the time you’ve lived already–everyone’s time is not a fungible commodity. yours is yours and the why and how of your life is your responsibility–it cannot be exchanged for someone else’s time on this planet, but you knew that, what could i tell you about your life? all i have is my own and when i run out of time (good times) i want to be able to have a say in its termination. that is all.


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© Robert Patrick, and Cultivar, 2008-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts, photographs and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Robert Patrick and Cultivar with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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