| White Plume suicide |
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| Written by OG | |
| Friday, 26 January 2007 | |
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Dreams: Something of White Plume and suicide. I was getting out of a car at the local post office. White Plume was the clerk in the window. I was surprised to see her and wanted to chat and catch up. I hurried inside. That’s all I remember. Though, I also remember something about committing suicide in the dreams. Not exactly sure why I was going to kill myself. Something about the futility of existence and all that existential BS, just being tired of the struggle. Odd. In real life I’m resolved to the facts of existence. The fact I have to kill something to live. The fact something must die for me to breathe, whether that is a plant or animal, something dies for each breathe I take. It’s just the way it is. It’s the food chain, and humans are at the top, at least on land. Who am I to question the order of things? I certainly can’t rebel. I can’t change it. And, in fact, I love meat. The tour guide yesterday summed it up well. I had asked if he’d ever seen a pod of Orcas (Killer whales) attack a baby hump back whale. He said they came upon a blood smear of a fresh kill last year and the tourist were horrified. Then he said, “The baby bunny is cute. But, the baby fox is cute too.” And, he walked away to other duties on the ship. And, there you have it. So, I don’t know why the whinny little suicidal existentialist of my subconscious was making noise in my dreams last night. Pussy. Suck it up. Eat some steak. You’ll feel better. |
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