Tag Archives: death

Death and Death and Death

There’s a lot of dying going around.  Famous celebrities shooting up too much heroin.  Fathers of our friends passing away on trips to Peru.  Our actual friends having cardiac arrests in the gym.  It’s senseless.  

If I was a betting woman I’d say this dying this is contagious.

I’m afraid of death.  The idea of this measly little life I have being OVER – it can’t be true.  I haven’t gone to Africa.  I never got published.  I am not blissfully happy, goddamnit.  And yet, around ever corner, I tiptoe carefully – sure that Mr. Reaper is waiting to snatch me from the shadows.  

What will I regret when I’m dead?  What will I be grateful for?

Last night I had a party to go to and I didn’t go.  Instead, I watched Austenland in bed with a bowl of M&M’s.  The light was off by 9.  Will I regret that?  Will I regret not being more social, more effervescent, more sparkly and superb?  Probably.  And what about the M&M’s?  Or watching a movie alone while Sam went out without me?  Or going to sleep at 9 instead of staying up and working on my opus?  Maybe, probably, I don’t know.

The point is, I spend much of my waking days thinking about death.  Thinking about what I should be doing so I don’t regret it when I’m dead.  And thinking some more about life and how short “it” is.  This transient state of consciousness trapped in a fragile little human shell.  And then I keep thinking about all of us here, scrambling about for fame and fortune and power – all these quicksilver lives.  These flashes in the pan.  All of us one dark corner away from crashing into death.

And then another day goes by and it looks pretty much the same for me as the day before.  It’s insane.  I’m insane.

But one thing I do know – when it comes to death, we all look the same.  

Good deeds, bad deeds, jewels, titles, money in the bank…

pictures in the paper, kids, dogs, smokers, drinkers, avaricious pursuits…

druggies, terrorists, rapists, environmentalists…

nurses, doctors, janitors, and black market organ salesmen…we all look the same to death.



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Alex Caldwerwood – How Did He Die?

For those of you familiar with the Ace Hotel chain, creative hipster and hotelier, Alex Calderwood died under mysterious circumstances this past November in his London Ace.  At the time, rampant rumors alexcalderwood01surrounded the death.  Drug overdose?  Suicide?  Heart failure?  Foul play?  No stranger to rehab, Calderwood, like many creative types, struggled with demons.

None of this is shocking.  Sad?  Of course.  But shocking, no – our society has lost one talented individual after another to this or that or the other.  What is shocking is that to date, no additional information has been released about how Alex Caldwerwood passed.  Everything has been very hushed up.

But why?

If he did die of a heart attack, then why wouldn’t it have been released?  Or if Caldwerwood died of an unknown malady, wouldn’t loved ones want it investigated?  I mean, the man was only 47 years old.  So then I’m wondering, was there a letter?  Or a popcorn tub full of needles and pills that someone put a lid on quickly?  And if, so how?

Someone has got to know and that somebody is doing a bang-up job of covering it all up.  I can’t find a single news article informing of the details.  Radio silence since November 2013.  It’s not just impressive, but odd in this day and age.  Makes me think – what are we all missing that is so secret it had to be covered up like a second shooter on a grassy knoll?

Alex Calderwood…I’m still thinking about you and wondering.

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