I had a good life so far. A good one with devastatingly strange moments. I have lived through despair and extreme joy. Fear of the empty and love of it. I wanted to jump into the abyss, embrace the cold dark endless bottoms of it. And at the samre time i always tried to stay on the edge, clinging at what i had there with all of my strength, even if it was only myself.
I have sat into hospital rooms, myself as a patient, trying to recollect what happned. A car crashed, i was driving. I hurt myself. Still i was alive and i wasnt sure how i felt about it. I wasnt happy.
I was at the bed oif my father, after he underwent surgery to remove one of the many tumor cells that plagued his body. I prayed to a silent god that had no apparent interest in what iu asked. He survived. Under the effect of sedatives and delirium he told me mean things. But he was alive. I was relieved but not that happy.
I triumphed, making a novel published, getting through school, being good at jobs, solving problems, finding houses and celebrating at parties. I was happy. But not enough.
I have laughed or cried at music, movies, comedy, concerts, even weddings and funerals. My heart, mind and soul are driven by emotions and someytimes the toal lack of them, clouded by chemicals, booze, drugs or fear.
I got clean and sane. With all of my strength i survived. I climbed the walls.
This year, though the greatest moment was this: i went on a plane. Got through bureacracy and security. Got stuck on a seat, stinky and dirty. for hours and hours. No sleep. Tired.
Crawled through security again. Customs, no phone. Scared to not make it.
Then i get to the exit and a girl is there. She is beautiful. She is happy. She is bouncing and clapping her hands at my sight.
I hold her close. It is the happiest moment i ever had in my life.
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