A Small Amount of Humility
“True Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less,” C.S. Lewis
The clock is ticking.
The noise should be constant. It should
hit the beat all the time. But
it’s tick, tick, tick. Then tick, tick – tick. Suddenly
your heartbeat no longer lines up.
You feel as though you’re dying by the second
or half second.
It really depends on when that tick happens.
The bastard.
Feeling death or thoughts of dying
is what we do after 40.
We now balance whether this cheeseburger is worth
that extra 30 minutes it’s probably taking from me.
It is, by the way.
In my last 30 minutes,
I will be remembering all the great food I’ve had
and forgotten meals
consumed in front of the television.
People, in life, encourage humility.
They tell you to be humble in sports,
it’s only a game.
They tell you to be humble to your family,
they are the ones who love you
whether or not you’ll ever improve.
Be humble before God,
because…
Well I am not really sure and also
fuck that.
When I die,
I want people to be so shocked
that they shut down
like a soldier who developed PTSD
as a child.
When I die, I want there
to be a service so grand
that people wished they could have had an invite.
When I die,
I want it to create a hole so big
that physics can’t fill it.
I want everything I’ve written
to be read again.
To children.
Even the fuck words.
Because you should only trust
people who curse.
I want my stuff
to have a presence on eBay.
I want a fireworks ceremony
so I can scare
the shit
out of my cats, one last time.
I want to be the character
everyone is pissed that are gone next season.
I want a memorial bench
so I can support you.
I know I lacked this in the past.
When all we are given is
a murderous teacher
named time…
When all we have is just
really what we leave behind.
It shouldn’t surprise you
that I want some immortality.
As much as I can have.
Who’s selling it?
Where can I buy it?
You want to be loved in life.
I want to be loved eternally.
I want you to remember me,
smiling.
Then laughing so hard
that I make zero noise.
I want you to remember how blue
my eyes were
when the sun finally came out.
I want that clock
to hit the seconds
like it’s supposed to.
Every. Single. Time.
My heart doesn’t like the spaces.
The clock is ticking.
The noise should be constant. It should
hit the beat all the time. But
it’s tick, tick, tick. Then tick, tick – tick. Suddenly
your heartbeat no longer lines up.
You feel as though you’re dying by the second
or half second.
It really depends on when that tick happens.
The bastard.
Feeling death or thoughts of dying
is what we do after 40.
We now balance whether this cheeseburger is worth
that extra 30 minutes it’s probably taking from me.
It is, by the way.
In my last 30 minutes,
I will be remembering all the great food I’ve had
and forgotten meals
consumed in front of the television.
People, in life, encourage humility.
They tell you to be humble in sports,
it’s only a game.
They tell you to be humble to your family,
they are the ones who love you
whether or not you’ll ever improve.
Be humble before God,
because…
Well I am not really sure and also
fuck that.
When I die,
I want people to be so shocked
that they shut down
like a soldier who developed PTSD
as a child.
When I die, I want there
to be a service so grand
that people wished they could have had an invite.
When I die,
I want it to create a hole so big
that physics can’t fill it.
I want everything I’ve written
to be read again.
To children.
Even the fuck words.
Because you should only trust
people who curse.
I want my stuff
to have a presence on eBay.
I want a fireworks ceremony
so I can scare
the shit
out of my cats, one last time.
I want to be the character
everyone is pissed that are gone next season.
I want a memorial bench
so I can support you.
I know I lacked this in the past.
When all we are given is
a murderous teacher
named time…
When all we have is just
really what we leave behind.
It shouldn’t surprise you
that I want some immortality.
As much as I can have.
Who’s selling it?
Where can I buy it?
You want to be loved in life.
I want to be loved eternally.
I want you to remember me,
smiling.
Then laughing so hard
that I make zero noise.
I want you to remember how blue
my eyes were
when the sun finally came out.
I want that clock
to hit the seconds
like it’s supposed to.
Every. Single. Time.
My heart doesn’t like the spaces.
