June 10, 27 J.E.

There is only one certainty in life. No, it isn't that I will never score again, although it's close.

The one certainty above all else is that sooner or later, we are all going to die.

Yes, that hard-working little heart yours may take a five-minute breather. Those diligent lungs may decide they have better things to do. Those little cells in your pancreas may turn to the dark side and become cancerous. Maybe that bus driver may take one too many shots from his hip flask the day you cross the street on his route. Perhaps that tofu you just ate was laced with arsenic, courtesy of some disgruntled worker driven to madness by a vegan diet.

The thing about death that is depressingly uncertain is the when and the where of it. We all know it's going to happen, but will we be young or old? Will it be painful or instant? Will we be lying in bed, surrounded by loved ones or be fortunate enough to croak right in the middle of banging some hot 18 year-old slut?

The part I find most distressing is the timing of it. I just KNOW that when I die, the timing will be absolutely horrid. Given what  a life-changing experience death is, it takes a significant amount of planning. An inconveniently-timed death can really screw up vacation plans.

If I could, I would LOVE to know when I was going to die, preferably to the day. Heck, if I was going to die on Wednesday, you can bet that I'm not going to work on Monday! Well, maybe  a half day on Tuesday... Yep, my last day of work, everybody would say, "See you tomorrow" at the end of the day, and I'd say, "See ya in Hell, ya bastards!" And I'd reschedule all of my meetings for Thursday, and the joke would be on them, because I'd be dead!

If I knew when I was going to die, I'd be sure to throw out all of my porn (meager collection that it is) to ensure that the illusion of my purity is intact. I'd have to find loving homes for my tarantulas. I also wouldn't bother working out, either, since it seems rather  pointless. I'd probably feel compelled to clean my room and make my bed, though. I might even call my parents and extended family. What a downer.

On the eve of my death, I'd empty my accounts, run up my credit cards, and carouse wildly for as long as I had energy. Heck, I might die from partying too much.

And that, I suppose, is the problem. It would be good to know that if you're going to die in July you might as well cancel that trip you had planned in August. On the other hand, knowing you were going to die could take the flavor out of the last few hours as you wring your hands waiting for the end. More likely, your actions on your last day would probably cause you to die. "Well gee, I'm going to die today, so I might as well smoke the rest of this crack." Or, you could get in an accident, go into a coma,  and die days or weeks later, and THAT could screw up the planning process. If I knew I was going to die in the year 2104, I can't say I'd be thrilled with that prospect, either. At least I will have seen my tarantulas grow up.

I can just imagine the chaos that would ensue if everybody had the knowledge of when they were going to die. Life insurance wouldn't exist as we know it, and credit cards would probably go out of business. On the bright side, funeral homes would probably be able to plan their inventories a lot better and emergency services would be able to be ready for big disasters (if a bunch of people are scheduled to die at the same time and at the same place, that would be a good indication of something big happening).

Egad, I can't imagine what a world would be like if we had knowledge of the timing of our own deaths. Most people bounce through life in complete denial that they're progressing ever closer to the precipice of oblivion. Heck, maybe they'd continue going that way even if they knew when they were going to die. Maybe they'd all shoot themselves on the day of their deaths, making it a self-fulfilling prophecy.

All in all, I guess it's OK the way it is, although it sure is inconvenient.

"Live every day as though it were your last," they say. Ass to that. If today was my last day, you can bet I wouldn't be wasting my time writing this!

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