Diary of a Dead Man Walking. 6/30/17. Empty Pockets.

pocket

I was once one of those irritating people who would rise and shine with the purpose of conquering the day. You know the type. While you’re still guzzling caffeine trying to remember your name, they’re already trying to accomplish something worthwhile. Bloody idiots. Since I’m no longer one of those types I have no remorse in chastising their unnatural behavior. It’s kind of like being an ex-smoker.

Most of us never consider the blink of an eye analogy. Tomorrow will be just like today. Won’t it? We plan for our future in terms of financial stability and such, but we only plan for the future as we see it unfolding. We never expect a wrench being tossed in the spokes. Those things only happen to other people.

Only one in 10,000 people will develop Multiple System Atrophy. Of those, only one in 10,000 will die from it. If you’re one of the 9,999 who will escape its clutches, it doesn’t mean something else can’t sneak up on you like a thief in the night. Even if you’re still young, don’t think you are exempt. We’re like cars. Some last longer than others whether you change the oil every 2000 miles or not.

Of course, I’m just ribbing the bright eyed and bushy tailed amongst us, long may their lives never change. But if it did, what would their reactions be? What would yours be? Pissed off? Maybe at first. Accepting? Maybe after a while. At peace with it? It depends on the person.

Life will go on until it no longer does, regardless anyone’s attitude about it. Some of us just happen to knows it’s coming a little quicker than anticipated.  If you only have five bucks to your name you wouldn’t want to waste it, would you? It’s all you have left. Every penny counts… Think about that… Even if you aren’t sick.

Until we meet again… For however long that may be… Treat each given day… Like it’s the last you’ll ever see…

 

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