Want to know what the real joke of our lives is? X asks me. Well, I’ll tell you anyway. It’s that we’re still surviving, he says, and that we’ll keep on surviving. You know how you used to tell me you somehow knew in your bones that you’d live a long life? How you used to say it with a tinge of pride in your voice? Remember how that tinge of pride started dying away? Well that’s the joke, he says, that despite what we’re doing to ourselves we’ll live on, for a long, long time: that we’re survivors. We think we’ve already lived too long, that our lives have already ended a million times, but that’s nothing, just someone’s fleeting daydream. And of course we’re still young. We think we’re past it, we think we’re living posthumously, but we’ll both make it to 90, 100, 110, wait and see! And that’ll be nothing too, like a wisp of smoke from someone’s cigarette. It’s life’s way of spiting us, he says, to make us live on and on despite ourselves, to make us survivors. If only we were still religious, he says, then it might have been God’s way of humbling us out of love, then we might be humbled instead of just humiliated, he says.


Comments are closed.