I cannot wait to DIE.

My business partner posted a fascinating post on Friday  about a documentary he has explored titled Transcendent Man about Ray Kurzweil’s.

Of course being a writer of great curiosity and it, being a subject we had discussed before, I had to finally take a look at it for myself.

I walked away from both the theory and the documentary with one determined conclusion.


Now, such a grand statement can be looked at suicidal. But that is not the case, I LOVE LIFE. Having almost lost it in 2006, there is nothing I love more, I am hungry for experiences; so much so that I love everything about life.

I love waking up in the morning, I love feeling my body drift off to sleep, at this moment, I am typing and I am smiling at the very magic of my fingers flying through the keyboard.  They are full of life.  Almost as giddy as I am.

This year has been a strange one.  I have lost people very close to me, and so I have become more aware of the passing of others.  The passing of time. Our own finality. (By the way, I so want to be 15 minutes late to my own funeral.  Elizabeth Taylor rules)

I say, death is a good thing.  Death is not something to be extinguished, like cancer or a bad disease. Death is something to aspire too.  A life well lived and a death to suit it is the greatest goal a man can have.

I think humanity is egotistical, and that Ray Kurzweil’s theory feeds not only our greatest hope, but our greatest weakness… our ego.

We are so brilliant, our technology so good, that we “egotize” that we should be the  generation to live forever.  But we are just stepping-stones on the way to a greater generations.  We will be the shoulders (the Greece, The Egypt, The Romes) on which  future generations will stand.

Our deepest understanding of what it means to be human should include the understanding that like all in nature we are finite. We will have an end and we should embrace it.

Only by knowing that our end is  around the corner do we live a good life.  Do we make choices to choose life over destruction. To chose artfulness over sloth.

Live like today is your last day. Live like you were dying.  Songs and poems, books and films have been written with this message.

It is a message we fail to learn, and yet the moment we are born, we are faced with the same destiny as everyone else, our eventual ends.  Someone once said; “We are born to die. Not that death is the purpose of our being born, but we are born toward death, and in each of our lives the work of dying is already under way.”


I had the rare experience of almost dying.  I felt it.  So I have no fear of it.  I embrace my life with equal passion, and a searing understanding that I am born toward death.

Everything I do today, every person I love, every choice I make is made because I want to maximize my life.  After all, soon it will be over, and what I will have of it, will be the joy I have gathered along the way.


It will happen in its own way, whether violently or peacefully, painlessly or in complete and utter anguish.  I will know when its coming and I thank the wonders of life that led to my precise moment of conception.


But by no means does it mean that I will waste the time in the interim!

Because death, death is our deadline.  We are given that specific time, and if we’re lucky enough to make it to a point where the choices are ours.  And by that I mean, past our parents care. Our choices should be made with one thing in mind.  Death is always near.  Celebrate that!

Yes, the documentary is brilliant and fun.  And Yes, technology is growing exponentially to allow some miraculous things to take place.

But I will take my graceful exit stage left; watching in awe a future generation take the reigns of humanity’s future.

All I have is the time I am rightfully given.  I’m gonna do the best with it!

I come back to that night of February 14th, 2006.  And the moment I knew I was going to die.  I always describe that event as a moment when I saw my life before my eyes and then forward to everything I never got to do.

But there was something more.  I could feel it.  Whether science explains it as feverish illusion or part of my way to deal with the pain I was in.  I could feel there was something beyond death. Just peacefully waiting; and its glow was absolutely welcoming.

I don’t blame anyone for wanting to stay here and help humanity into its next evolution.  But after my near death-experience, I don’t think death is the end.  It is just a door way to something else.  I instinctively trust that my energy will simply be transformed into another part of this planet’s natural evolution.  I cannot wait to explore the other side.

I love my life. I am giddy for it.  I wake up every morning and I get to tell stories for a living.

I love my friends.  Hell, I’m deeply in love with one of them.  Love is central to my existence.

I trust my instincts. Only because, I have so little life left to live.

and I cannot wait to die.

When I do, I want no crying, nor celebrations, nor speeches.  I want others to continue with their lives.  Actually the best way to show me respect will be to, on the day of my death, find a really great play and start on the journey to producing it.

When you speak of me, I don’t want you to remember me as a good guy, or the damn sexy beast you see before you,  or a good writer who achieved some notice.

But talk fairly about me, I want Lanie to say, “Remember the two and a half years he spent in love with that boy he could not have.  Oh, Mozzie, such a romantic, but he did write his best play during that time period!”

I want my flaws to be talked about.  Because I take such joy in them.  I take joy in the things I do well. I take joys on the things I do badly.  Oh, and some of the things I do badly are really fun and I do them with great joy. 😉

What I loved about the documentary Transcendent Man, is the fact that if the coming “singularity” does come to pass.  It will be our choice, to “download” our consciousness and therefore continue.

To that I say.


and I hope to die as artfully as I am living.

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars…” – Jack Kerouac


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