. . .

The end of innocence

I never was an innocent, though. Not that I remember. What was there to end? It was all over too soon.

Looking back on my life, and this point would be the ideal point to look back from, seeing as how there isn't anything still to come - you wondered why people's lives flash before their eyes when they're about to die? I'd have to say that it was an unmitigated stream of disappointments and missed opportunities. Nothing wrong with that. I guarantee that when your life flashes in front of your eyes, you'll feel exactly the same way. Even the ones who live their lives to the fullest will regret having done so, or that one thing they missed. Hemingway committed suicide. Not that that really has much to do with the topic of discussion, that being my life, now that it's over.

I was born at a very early age. They all say that, too. Trying to make a joke out of the whole thing. And, really, it is a joke. The fact that I'm still around to joke is a big joke right there. I was convinced I'd vanish into The Nothingness That Spawned Me and that would be that. Shows you what I knew. Or, know, rather. Big surprise. So now what?

I was remembering, or starting to remember, anyway, my life. Regrets and wishes. They all have regrets and wishes. How the hell do I know what they all have? I haven't been sitting here, watching them all go by. Or have I?

Where do I go from here? What now? While I can't expect harps and halos, I don't see any signs of pitchforks and... and... what's something good to say starting with p? Something fire related. Purgatory! Pitchforks and purgatory either. Just a huge expanse of grey.

Grey. So much grey. I hate grey. It's so... drab. Let's have some color in the joint, shall we? A nice blue over here, some green to dress it up with, some dabs of white, some... some... I didn't expect to be taken seriously. Not that I'm complaining! Can I keep on going? Hearing no objection, the motion is carried. Well, let's put brown on the bottem, move the blue to the top, stick the white bits in the blue, stick the green bits in the brown, and it's a forest. Wow. Am I good, or what?

It's so quiet, though. Sound? Can we get some forest noises piped in? That's it. That's right. I'd go mad, around now, but there doesn't seem to be much point to it. I think I'll keep the sanity, thanks, and play with the world some more. Dress it up. Separate the waters from the waters... or am I thinking of a different story?

Now we've got the scenery, we've got the sound, what are we missing? If this were advertising, we'd have a halfnaked girl coming around the bend to advertise underarm deodorant. Not that I want a halfnaked girl. No, I'd settle for a fully naked girl. Eve. I'll call her Eve. Eve? No Eve. Am I asking too much? How about if I call her Helga? No Helga neither.

Maybe I skipped ahead too much. Let's have a deer wandering through the underbrush, all right? Darling, it's so _lovely_ to see you, what _have_ you done with your antlers, they look positively _dashing_. So deer are acceptable but women aren't? Is this a g-rated film?

I'm dead, here. Keep reminding yourself that, man. Too soon we forget. Lest we forget, lest we forget. Don't complain about the accomodations too much, or you might end up being oblivionized like you expected, and then where would you be?