Have you ever had regret that you didn’t use a particularly volatile emotion? I don’t even believe in regret. But someday I’m going to look back on this part of my life and think “What was I doing?”
I guess it was Stephen King who said, “You’ve have to get busy living, or get busy dying.” (In the Shawshank Redemption.) All my intense emotions lately have been the result of really great movies. Last night Laura and I watched American Splendor. Then afterward I played video games instead of tapping into the intense emotion I was left with. But that was living, so writing must be dying. Writing must be the business of dying.
Today I’m helping someone move.
Is it natural to worry about whether you’re living life to its fullest?
Last night I wore myself out playing unicycle hockey long past the point of being too exhausted to play (I was pushing myself because I feel that I need the exercise). Then I stayed up and played video games for hours, drinking Baileys Irish Cream with ice.
I am just sipping at these thoughts of death and regret, nursing a near-empty glass.