a splendid readiness for death

A splendid readiness for death- revisited, revisited.

I awoke at 5 am in a state of manic terror; I rolled over to the side of my bed and wrote this.

She awakes from her dream,
Shrieking!

I HAVE JUST BEEN BORN! I HAVE JUST BEEN BORN

She runs out to the street, and yells to the trees!

WE HAVE JUST BEEN BORN! and we have so much beauty in the world to look forward to experiencing.

And she adds to the air as an afterthought the six words that every being needs to hear -

.. and everything is going to be okay.

She grabs the hands of a passerby. They twirl in circles. She looks at the passerby in the eye and says

YOU HAVE JUST BEEN BORN! And you are living exactly the way you should be.

The girl continues walking no, running down the street. In her nightgown- mind you. Gleefully spewing the good news with an almost evangelical glow in her eye.


I HAAAAVVEE JUST BEEEENNN BORRN. I HAVEEE JUUUUSST


Then all at once, someone, no something interjects. A mailbox. A mailbox opens its mailbox mouth and sticks out its mail tongue. And the mailbox says,

You have not just been born, you are as ancient as the hills. You will die soon. You will die without ever finishing reading Anna Karenina. Without ever smelling the Italian sea. Without creating anything worthwhile, or figuring out what that thing is you feel is always missing from your heart. And worst of all you will die with out ever taping into the mystery of how to make love stay.

Oh.

The girl said.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

And she turned and walked away. Walked passed the tree. Walked past the passerby. Walked right into her house, towards her bed and crawled back in. She vowed never again to wake before noon, and went back to sleep.