But still it Flashed

The other night, a friend and myself were sitting at a table at a bar eating Tater Tots and drinking beers. I asked for a draft but got a bottle. I didn't mind. It was late and the conversation was good. We were both laughing and telling stories, and then like any good conversation does, we started talking about death. And then I remember saying:

"A couple years ago, maybe last year, I was flying, alone, and I don't remember where, but I don't have a fear of flying or anything, I was blessed growing up and travelled a lot with my family, so I was never afraid to fly or anything, and I don't get sick on planes or anything, but I was flying and as we were landing, the thought just flashed, quickly, across my mind, honestly, I don't even remember if there was turbulence, but still it flashed, but this time, instead of it letting it just flash, I kind of focused in on it, not death, well yes, essentially, death, but the aftermath of death, being that oblivion, and I focused on it, and if I were to be extremely honest, which I hate to do, I've always been a high-strung guy, but since living in New York, that high-strungedness has grown acute and now I just get downright anxious and worked up so easy, so when I focused in on this oblivion, this non existing, no more thoughts, no more perception, no more being able to see, hear, feel, smell, taste, not just a 'fade to black' but a straight cut, and black, it's over and I can't even have the contemplative joy of dwelling on the over or have the second--mili-second--to contemplate, agree, finalize the overedness of the situation that WAS my life or what even brought me to my end, because no, that's not the contract someone signed when they decided to allow me to live, the contract doesn't and didn't include that, there may have been the workings to include ideas such as afterlives and things like that, but there was no fine print on what I do when I moved on past 'Streets of Gold' and 'Lakes of Fire,' and believe you me, I'm still looking for those details, and I thought in that moment on that plane I was going to throw up and even explode, at least internally, and then, with or without that plane falling from the sky, I was going to face oblivion that day, ironically, oblivion would take me home, but hopefully, possibly, the fat man next to me, with his slack drooling sleeping jaw, would do me the honor and justice of telling my story, 'Tell my whole story Fat Man, for the world needs to know,' because, to be totally honest, I let him have my armrest as his drooling jaw snored into my shoulder..."


My friend and I continued to talk. I poured extra Tobasco on those golden salty Tots. And when those finished, and so did our beers, we ordered another round, of it all. And we kept talking, eating, drinking, and wondering. A lot of laughs in between. And that, essentially, makes this what this all can be.



-Remoy