Thursday, December 09, 2004
a day of disturbed naps - in the car, being woken in the afternoon by next door's %%##* dog, now a late nap in the pram after mothers' group. a few seconds to blog.
I'm 38 1/2 years old. The radio told me today that 5 million children die in third world countries every year. Can this be true?
I have had 38 years of existence in one of the most priveleged socio-economic groups in the world. all I needed to be top of the heap was to be male. in many respects, I may well have fucked it up. this is standard midlife crisis stuff. I have been given a life, and not used it. I've simply stumbled through it. not enough carpe diem, too much hedonism. and so on. so I really, really cannot complain if I die. I am afraid of pain, and of course I don't want to die, but there are millions of people a million times worse off than me.
I do, however, want to be there and see my baby grow up. the world I've seen enough of, though you can never really get enough New York, or art, or books, or candlelit dinners with the man you love.. I have things I ought to have done, too, and I'm thinking about those. but what really bothers me is the idea of not being there for his first day of school, not seeing what he does to his hair when he's seventeen, not holding his hand when he's sick, not putting up with his high school rock band or art projects or whatever. not seeing his children. that stuff, I want, and badly.
I'm 38 1/2 years old. The radio told me today that 5 million children die in third world countries every year. Can this be true?
I have had 38 years of existence in one of the most priveleged socio-economic groups in the world. all I needed to be top of the heap was to be male. in many respects, I may well have fucked it up. this is standard midlife crisis stuff. I have been given a life, and not used it. I've simply stumbled through it. not enough carpe diem, too much hedonism. and so on. so I really, really cannot complain if I die. I am afraid of pain, and of course I don't want to die, but there are millions of people a million times worse off than me.
I do, however, want to be there and see my baby grow up. the world I've seen enough of, though you can never really get enough New York, or art, or books, or candlelit dinners with the man you love.. I have things I ought to have done, too, and I'm thinking about those. but what really bothers me is the idea of not being there for his first day of school, not seeing what he does to his hair when he's seventeen, not holding his hand when he's sick, not putting up with his high school rock band or art projects or whatever. not seeing his children. that stuff, I want, and badly.
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