J’s Diary Entry
Tuesday, 28 Feb 1995
Thinking about longevity. Would I live my life more vigorously if I knew when it was going to end? For some reason, I am at this moment struck by how conservatively I live. I live in fear of failure. I think of my death every day but my life moves so torpidly. I wish I had the audacity to burn out spectacularly, but I don’t. Why don’t I? There is nothing stopping me but me. What if I gave myself a year? The problem with this plan is the control I would have to exert. Left to my own devises I contract and withdraw. Others expand and spread themselves thin. I become dense and clouded, murky and bereft of hope.
Bitter, bitter, bitter.
AN ASIDE FROM S
It would be another 3302 days before my brother took his life. That J’s sense of hopelessness is so heavy and that he fought on for so long breaks my broken heart.
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