The Great Unknown

No one I love has died. (Knock on wood.) My grandparents died within my lifetime, but the particular layout of our family ensured I didn't have a close relationship with them, any of them. My teacher died. My great-uncles died. I'm sure more will die. Death to me is associated with a deep sense of guilt -- self-chatisation (is that a word?) that I didn't spend more time with this person, didn't get to know them better, didn't care MORE. Do you ever feel like you are floating above the world, incapable of engaging with the people around you? So caught up in your own life? I consider myself lazy when it comes to human relationships and dishes. Doing Laundry. I wonder how it happened that I did not learn these skills and instead got caught up in now. Now. Now. Now.

I cried when my dog died. My Mom had to put her to sleep, she had ripped open her eye where there was an abscess. An abscess I think she got when she fell off the stairs of the apartment I was renting in Burnaby with Toni Rozylo. Sometimes I get visitations from my dog in my sleep. I think our dog was our protector, even still today. I regret not protecting her better, but I just couldn't get down the stairs fast enough to save her from walking off the platform. She could not see very well and was disoriented after a long car ride.

I know it will happen for me one day. (Is this tempting fate?) You know, D----H. Now I feel superstitious. Have I called attention to a deficit in my life? Will the gods respond? Shit.