 Going overboard
You always know, and have known, when
you're over doing it
Farrokh B
October 20, 2004
iranian.com
Today, as a matter of fact just right
now, I had a premonition.
You see, a friend of mine died just yesterday
from a lung cancer that had spread to mess all his insides up.
He was 49,
almost obese, smoked like forest fire, and drank like a fish.
Qasem was a jovial fellow who always seemed happier than a rat
in a cheese
factory. No tubes and fuckin' wires n' hook ups for
him yo, no sir; he said he wanted to go the day before...
I am
43, and I also like to eat, smoke, and drink.
For a while now,
in my middle-aged wandering mind, a few thoughts about my personal
health issues, have been driving me abso-friggin'-lutely
crazy. I mean to the point of mindless obsession. And it
hasn't helped that being a member of the armed forces I have to
make
sure that my physical attributes meet the terms of some bullshit
chart,
which some cock sucking dickwad designed who knows when in
the Pentagon!
Let
me try to explain:
You find yourself feeling hating life when your
most inner self isn't sure or is at odds with what the fuck it
is that you are
programmed to think that you ought to do with your life
and body. You have been given plenty of advice and so-called
instructions. You know, all the jive that everybody who
was older than you
and insisted to know more and better than you told you
as you grew
up.
And you dug up all the other junk that clutters your
mind on your own in your curious masturbating discovery
phase of
your
life.
Some of them are from so long past that they are very
deeply embedded in your soul; thus giving way to the condition
that disobeying
them results in deep sense of guilt and simply feeling
like shit!
 There are, I feel obliged to suspect, other
psychological factors involved in why you'd feel shitty because
of
things you do
or don't do relating to your body. But hell if I know
what they are. I ain't no shrink and I am not even
gonna try
to front like one.
For right now, I've figured it out
like this for myself: Fuck it. Do everything that you enjoy to
do. Be it
eat, drink, fuck, or smoke,... what have you. But
god dammit,
don't
over do it. You always know, and have known, when
you're over doing it. Don't go overboard!
That way, if you are
lucky enough to be conscious at the time of your death, and give
enough of a fuck
to
reflect
and make
a quick
review of your life before you say adios, you won't
feel sorry for the things you did, and worse, the
things you
didn't but wanted to do!
After that, who'd give
a fuck? Damn sure you won't!
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Going overboard
