it didn't really dawn on me that they were going to call and ask about my advance directive but now that they have...fuck, who could know what to tell them. so i'll tell you this much...if i'm ever in a persistent vegetative state...let me go. it's time for me to go to wherever that next place is. but this stuff about do you want a dnr if you are choking on food? that's just too much to think about...

where is that next place? it's one thing if you have faith, if you have a set of the rules of some kind of religion guiding you. but i do not. and how exactly does one choose? put on them all on the table...none of them sound all that great and do require, well, faith in the story that they are telling you. but i do believe that there's a place after this, that there was some point to the pain and the laughter and the things we can't control but have to deal with anyway. some place where we see each other at least one more time, where we have the understanding and capability to say how little we knew during our time in this place...some place where we can understand how the way we lived had an effect on how others lived...some place where we can realize it all but somehow be ok with it, be ready to forgive, be ready to understand...be ready to move forward in whatever system we're a part of without the baggage of this place...this heaven and hell.

ah...heaven and hell, the name of this blog. it's this place i refer to, on the eve of my five year aniversary of keeping this thing up...it's this place, the here and now where we ask ourselves "what are we doing and what's the whole point?" i have no answer to that, my friends...and i don't believe in the mythology that we grasp onto that start wars and anger and death...but i believe...i believe that there is some point, some point to all the crying that happens when we get home...