The video report below by RT is about the lonely death of old men in Japan. It could be as well here or other western countries without contemporary traditions of extended family. I saw myself in this.
I live as many of the isolated men in this piece do. I have a routine. I get up shower wash what I wore yesterday hang it to dry.
Then I write or read for some hours perhaps a short walk for exercise,...though I'm not able much now. Going to market even is hard now. I go online for mostly lectures. History the arts, and sciences. I think I've earned another liberal arts degree by this.
I get almost no personal calls from family or friends. What I do get is the hospital the landlord the electric company, and wrong numbers. This is why I leave my phone mostly off.
Though I do visit with old friends from my broadcast career maybe four of five times a year. We used to see each other everyday all day.
Now only four times a year one sees the aging.
Sleep.
Much sleep. I'm weaker now than I've ever been. I'm staring 70 in the face. Fuck it I'm alive. I used to spend time doing art. A lot of crafts projects see below. It had a meditative effect. Took courses at the 92nd Street Y. Historic digs Google it.
Cute Huh?
I made Queer pieces too, but this post or
this whole site might be deleted
if I put them up. ...swell.
I never see anyone. Well except for doctors or Social Service visitors making sure I'm still alive.
I do converse intermittently on Facebook with people around the world. Well more like messages in a bottle than active conversing.
This might be my main connection with humanity.
Oh the 21st century.
I remember reading that in the 60's through the 90's old folks made up relationships with characters on TV shows. This became their social network of phantoms. My Facebook community are also phantoms. I care for them, but will never see or really know them.
I had an actual breathing friend that owned the market. He was about my age, and we chatted about the old daze. I went the other day. His nephew said he'd passed away.
Just like that.
Right,...so. Life goes on.
I see few do little. The Docs, and assorted professionals I tell this all recommend the same noise. Old folks community crap. Geriatric rubber rooms. I've seen them places, and people.
While in hospital was wheeled into the walking dead section. They thought I'd like to be with old folks about to be fertilizer as I was.
Well...
A limited menu of types. Lifeless staring as in Alzheimer's shells of souls. Also religious nuts, neo-Nazis, and straight murderous homophobes. Did I mention old ladies that wanted to make out with me?
...no thanks.
I actually wheeled myself back to my suite. The interesting people in my life all died of AIDS or overdoses. I nearly imploded via overdose several times. Looking back a pity I didn't.
Where was I?
Right late afternoon I make my meals or meal,...I eat generally once a day. Even when I was middle class this was my habit. I have to eat four times a day now or I'll go into diabetic shock,...swell. I tried that once. It was like force feeding a prisoner.
...fuck it.
I have meds for Hypoglycemic attacks if they come,...they do, but not often. So I eat nap read go online sleep look out the window watch the seasons change, and wait for my turn. Getting laughs where I can along the way.
As in the video report below. They'll know I'm gone when they smell me. Like many elders if I think my time is coming. I leave my door unlocked so the EMT guys won't have to break in to scrape or shovel me up off the floor bed or toilet.
That's the only thing I'm careful of,...I don't want to exit while taking a dump. Hey I ain't Elvis.
Otherwise besides assorted little details. No real life as I once knew it. I haven't "lived" in years five six maybe. I'm surviving. ...existing.
I sleep eat listen to lectures watch dust motes write paragraph long time travel stories, and wait.
I'm fine.
No comments:
Post a Comment