“If i only had a day left to live, what would I do?” A loaded question. I can barely answer it without bursting into tears. It’s a heavy question. I am not prepared for the sort of emotions that confront me. Regret. Hopelessness. A sense that I am in the midst of the greatest cry for help I’ve ever launched apologetically into the void. Inside my skin I am suffering from myself. From all the things I’ve done wrong, or not well enough. It is a sudden dive into the depths.
I’m aware that, there’s a chance, it might be slightly easier to answer the question if I believed in an afterlife, but I don’t believe in one. For me there is only now, this world, this life. I thought I had made my peace with that notion but perhaps I haven’t. I’m not sure I lived the life I wanted, maybe that’s why I think it wouldn’t be so bad for there to be an afterlife. As I am thinking about these things, I realise this question is not extreme enough. A day is still too long. Too many options. Too many variables.
I force myself to consider my final minutes. What is the last thing I would want to feel? Love, joy, music. Of course I would want those. Who wouldn’t?
Who are the last people I would want to see around me? Armin, Chuan, Jothi, Alex, …. my parents, my brother, my closest oldest friends. Where do I imagine all this would take place? In a beautiful room that I decorated, in a space that’s mine. What would I do in the hours before hand? remember, laugh, cry. I don’t know. I’m beginning to feel like this question is useless. It doesn’t really clarify anything. I consider that if I had one last favour to ask it would be that my world, Llyria is not forgotten. That my cats are taken care of… I’d like to be in Germany. I don’t think I would do that much out of the ordinary really. It would be nice if there were fireworks. Sky tinsel. I keep thinking of flowers. The sky. A bicycle ride along the river.
Next question: If I had a week left to live.