Mined from the notebooks, Sunday morning, May 21, 2017. Posted Sunday morning, June 4.
Felt my mortality weighing heavily on me this morning. Tried to keep the demons at bay by telling myself I could be around for another 30 years. The demons laughed. What's the point of that? they asked mockingly. I had to grant them the point.
Thirty more years? Might be a pleasanter prospect if I and nobody I knew were going to age and things would continue on pretty much the way they are. Not a lot to look forward to as it is. Not much I'm going to contribute with my persistent presence. I'm done. It's somebody else's turn. Don't want to die but not excited about living. Lately I've caught myself having fantasies that are influenced by Philip Jose Farmer's Riverworld novels except that instead of dying and being reborn down river I'm reborn back upstream and wake up as my twenty year old self, a young hero with prospects again.
These were pre-dawn thoughts. As soon as it got light I got in the car and headed for McDonald's. We're up at the old Mannion Homestead for the weekend so I drove down to the river and had my coffee on the riverbank, looking at this:
I don't see much point in living thirty more years. Or twenty. Or ten. But contemplating a view like this? With a good cup of coffee? Continuing on another day seems like a good idea.