My Eyes

"You keep rubbing your eyes like that, you might rub yourself blind."

Funny. I'm rubbing them to try to keep from going blind, as if to circulate some life back into them. Sometimes, when it comes to what will finish me off, I think it is a contest between Pop's health, my diabetes, or my failing vision.

"Who is the favorite in that race."

Too close to call.

Though, it occurs to me that the eye problem and the diabetes are probably related. So, I could simplify and say that it is a contest between Pop's health and my health, as to which will give out first.

"Do you even know, for sure, if you even have diabetes?"

Well, I haven't been to the doctor's or anything, but ... it has to be a very good bet. My bad feet would seem to testify for the proposition, certainly.

"Should I work on a eulogy?"

Nah, there ain't going to be a funeral. I won't exactly be greatly missed. My life is like footprints in the snow. There will just be that much less farting in the world. As for Pop, if I do go down ahead of him, I suppose he will just become closer with Jack and his family, which would probably be more fun for him anyway.

"It's all so sad."

Mockery? I know what you mean. But this is where we are. We are now stuck in old age, and I didn't exactly spend my life covering myself in glory and love.

But, yeah, perhaps more irony and humor are in order.

"Fun would be fun. Fuck, even I am thinking of leaving you."

LOL You know its bad when even the voices in your head want to leave.