I am no longer funny. Funny looking, maybe, but not hi-larry-us. I do have my off the cuff moments still, but I cannot craft much of the funny anymore. It's not that my outlook has become bleak after surviving cancer, trying to help my sister in her strive for sobriety, losing her, and all the other seriously hard stuff that surrounded it all. My reality has shifted in a way that I cannot explain.
I have accepted much of what has happened; although, I do find it inconceivable at times that my sister is dead. I have this weird sensation, that spelled out, sounds rather pessimistic on the face: There's not much in this world that really matters. The weird part about it is that this feeling is rather liberating. Now, only if this feeling came with a pension fund.
I'm probably talking out of my ass here, but I figure that being able to talk out of my ass in any language is pretty remarkable, fuck!
4 years ago