I’m definitely scared of dying. Part of me, quite a big part, hopes I end up with dementia so that I’m stripped of any context when I’m slogging my bones towards and across the finishing line. I don’t wanna be laid in a bed knowing that all of my best times are over. It can be so, so sad to know things… and the saddest thing is knowing that something good is over. Rat Lungworm, a short story in Blindboy’s ‘Topographia Hibernica’ made me think about all of this.
In the prime of his life, Joop Houlihan’s at the nightclub in his Ben Sherman shirt and everybody either loves him or lusts for him. He’s dancing the way a person dances when they’re absolutely certain that life is beautiful and worth it, and then time comes along and sieves through him the way it’ll sieve through all of us: ruining things, mostly. So now Joop’s cooped up in his lonely cul-de-sac, eating slugs like oysters and breaking his own heart by thinking about the past: the pizza boxes that littered it, the Joop that dominated the the scent of it, the tattoos that were still crisp and black at the time of it. He’s got a horrible disease and he’s going to die a horrible death and he’s lonely and probably frightened and he finds himself relying on a Facebook support group to get him through it. It does end somewhat hopefully, but in general It’s a bleak story, and it’s triggered some pretty bleak thoughts in me.
First: that the nightclubs and pubs that make up my nights now will haunt the future landscape of my life like ghosts. The nightclub will become the derelict nightclub where I danced through the night with fearless abandon for the last time. The pub will become the derelict pub where I had a great conversation with my best friend for the last time.
Second: that if I don’t have kids, and those around me die before I do, I will be so alone, and so frightened.
Third: that if I don’t get a really good grip of my life (stop excessively binge drinking, stop smoking, stop waiting to start doing what I know I need to do if I’m ever gonna achieve what I know I wanna achieve) then I could end up on a lonely cul-de-sac with nothing to focus on except memories that hurt to remember. I wanna be able to point to the tangible things that I’ve done with my life, and to believe it was all worth it.
I’ve made this book sound really depressing. It’s not. The stories are all so varied and generous in what they have to offer. It’s silly, funny, life-affirming, and inspiring. Go read it.