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Friday, December 2, 2011

This thing I became after


Having only met me after I have died

Maybe you can see me, the real me from this story, having only met me after I have died. I was real once, had a pulse, felt love, breath, and the raised goose bumps of a special moment. I lived. This me you may have come to know, this thing I became after…well you know, or maybe you don’t, dying takes a lot out of you.
                I live in Toledo Oregon. Beautiful little town, quaint, rustic, and I definitely would have left ten years ago if not for my wife.
                Am I supposed to do that? This whole dying thing has got me all fucked up. Am I supposed to talk about things like they are in the here and now? I know you won’t read this until after I am dead. Is this one of those places where there is an unspoken rule that says no referring to things in the present tense you dead fuck you’ll make them uncomfortable? Here is the other question, who the fuck are you to hold that over me, I’m dead you dick, don’t you think I deserve a free pass from the guilt train?
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 I just wanted to through a teaser out there...I may post this as a cereal, or not, I'm not sure yet.

Chris McQueeney 12/2/11 1:23AM

6 comments:

Wine and Words said...

A free pass from the guilt train? Priceless. How do I get me one? I am dying. We are all dying. Everyday one step closer to death. A morbid outlook but true none the less. I liked this piece. It's as warped as I am.

Ben Ditty said...

You're warped too Annie? Maybe we'll end up in the same galaxy again! ;)

I was worried you were dying the first time I read through. So I guess that speaks to the power of the piece :)

christopher said...

I worked for a little over three years down on the lagoon below Toledo, Oregon, which is mainly built on a hillside, across the highway from Siletz, even smaller, a Native American town. Toledo is on the south side of the highway, Siletz on the north. Toledo was bypassed when they built the current highway to Philomath. You have to leave the highway, and the bypass road leads to the main street of Toledo. Coming from Newport, you have to turn left to go into town though. The road that leaves the highway actually leads past the old spruce mill and the paper mill, across the Yaquina River (a lagoon at this point) and up to the airport. The land where the mills are would be swamp if it hadn't been reclaimed by people, and after you drive down fifteen feet or so with pile, you hit a water layer twenty five feet deep or so.

erin said...

chris! here you are!

the first line, really, although all of it is so clever, is so freaking much to me, Having only met me after I have died. i would like to consider only this all day long. it makes me want to clap my hands.

xo
erin

Wander said...

Good morning Erin from a land far far away! Welcome!!
Thank you for your comment, I dont know that I can take all the credit, my hands are but a poor channel for the story of Michael. I do have to say this type of writing is very draining, but rewarding.

She Writes said...

Who is Michael? Lost :). I will ask.