Letter to Myself

by on April 1, 2016 :: 0 comments

photo by Tyler Malone

Hello, Nearly Departed:

Death has visited you, but yet you still remain. Death has no sting, only a stench. I am writing you to keep the light of life burning bright in you. I wrote this to myself after I was nearly murdered two and a half years ago. Here is what I wrote for all of you, who like me, have tasted death’s residue, but managed to still remain.


Death leaves her residue in the strangest way imaginable. It has a lasting effect. It is the highest superlative in life to play chess with Death and live to tell the tale. There is no greater relief than nearly dying a cruel, unimaginable way and wake up the next day. This horrifying fate that you have escaped can cause you to be down-and-out and feel increasing helplessness in an unheard of accelerated proportion. My advice to you is to stop this increasing wave of despair by bifurcating the potential potency of ignored woes and unleash an even greater avalanche of unending laughter. Do this quickly so that in doing so, it’s possible to slow the pace (that pounds mightily at the soul) of the unending amount of lurking pain, which is embedded in your traumatic situation. Laugh again and again and again. Know that you have animation to your body. Laugh with no end.

When you are done with this joyous laughter, be thankful you were spared from an unplanned exit from the world’s stage. Do this while knowing full well that your time will come again in a day not of your knowing. So life may be taken without a heed of warning.

Be careful, be wary, be cautious, not of dying in truth, but living without aim or purpose, having a caustic existence is far worse a fate than the day of carnal departure. Be alert, never ceasing, never failing to delight in the splendid, glorious fact that for the time being you have the beat of life, the vitality contained in your animated flesh beaming with history and life. This simple notion is beyond blinding in its beauty and grandeur. Be cognizant that there is a defined darkness dampening the same awe that permeates the world. You are fortunate to be jammed in the middle of every minute event of nature, person, animal, plant, bacterium, pattern of weather that is packaged pristinely in the enormity of our universe. All of these things happen whilst you still have breath, because without your knowledge you are stuck sitting front row in the symphony of existence—that funny cacophony of sound, sights, sublime magic. (Maybe now you might have found this out for yourself).

A few hours ago you tasted the biting jaws of death. You’ve avoided the exhaustion of your existence. Now you’ll be able to find lasting, palpable salvation stored freshly in your marred soul, a meaningful revival is yours for the creation. Do not fret over what has happened to you, that will only cause more despair and sink you further into a gargantuan mess of stagnation. Fight your demons head on. Don’t fret over what you’ve experienced, for you are and always have been a bursting beat in a symphony of lovely loud noises that carry a tune too wonderful to understand or enjoy. (Lucky for you, it’s accessible anywhere you are). This wonderful symphony can be enjoyed even past the time for you to live has dried up and the eternal notes go out of place.

Remember that you are not alone, despite your isolation. You are a small part of this sonorous show that has gone on since time was born. There is always some person protruding their still unmoving person dispassionately over you, wanting the best possible outcome. Be sympathetic for them. They can’t hear what you hear, they can’t see what you see, they cannot feel what you feel nor comprehend what is happening in front of them and that you’ll carry on marching along in the choirs of the heavens. For this, be jealous. You are nearer to death than they.

Once your ordeal is up return to your abode and know that it is the annoying hullabaloos of life—the job that pays you half of what you are worth, the terrible boss that treats you like an expense, the nonexistent family life, the glory you’ve never obtained, the boredom that surrounds you and the disappointment that stalks your path. Hear the booming, expansive uproar of a perfect eternal concert being played out right before you, causing only silence and wonder once it is understood. Listen to this. Then laugh once more. Now you are amongst the few that can value the purpose and passion of existence and all the cumbersome stupidity that depletes her spectacle. Don’t tell a soul what it is like to nearly die. For then you share the secret how to live. Few can figure this out and their existence is all the better once they do.

— Your Friend

P.S. Keep strong and carry on till you meet your time again.

editors note:

Fatalism isn’t embracing the horrible and hopeless, it’s seeing the inevitable end and inviting it into your house, kissing it, undressing it, and doing what you please with something repulsive while laughing into madness about what it’s really doing to you. ~ tyler malone

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