“But, but… I NEED an enemy!”
An awful lot of problems stop being “problems” once the other people involved aren’t being cast as “enemies.”
Know your limitations
It’s perfectly fine to recognize there are some things you just can’t do.
For example, I love eggs, but I’m no chicken.
“burned out”? WTF?
You know those people who were saying “Gosh, we think the fans are burnt out on Star Trek”?
They never talked to me.
Not once.
Sorry, I love it. I can be critical of this or that about it, but I love it. This is non-negotiable.
More, please.
A Tuning Phase
I see a lot of personal philosophies start out real simple. Then as we learn more and recognize the difference between reality and theory, those personal philosophies become more complicated, more conditional, more… Lawyerly.
Eventually, personal philosophies evolve back into a simpler form.
This cycle from simple to complex and back to simple intrigues me. I’m not entirely sure what philosophy suggests that cycle is, but I’m of the opinion it’s a sort of “tuning phase.”
Planning That Last Moment
There are those who claim that everyone dies alone and that somehow, it’s important to make sure you’re with a Special Someone before it’s your turn, lest, presumably, you suffer this fate.
But it’s well-known that Special Someones (if soap operas and divorce court are any indication) rarely seem to last very long. Seems on average, you get a new Special Someone every three years.
Banking on that kind of short-term window while also gambling that one will be shuffling from this mortal coil in some reasonably predictable fashion just seems like a Soulful Disaster Waiting to Happen. Even if one was so lucky — as if such a word might apply in this case — as to arrange to clock out during the magical three-year period one has a Special Someone (as opposed to a Soon-to-be-Ex-Special Someone who would take pleasure in your demise, or a Potential Special Someone who would be profoundly uncomfortable the rest of their life, thinking that surely they had usurped someone more appropriate for your expiring company), odds are still for the “dying alone” clause.
First, a full third of the day is spent sleeping. Although one could argue that sleeping isn’t technically “alone,” but one would not be getting into the spirit of the discussion.
Another full third of the day is spent at work. While many people work with their Special Someones (or have successfully managed to arrange for a workmate to BE a Special Someone), this is, in fact, quite rare. Sadly, a third of the time, you are likely to die in the presence of co-workers, which to many people is far less preferable to dying alone, or even on the pilot of a primetime TV show called “Look Mom — I’m a moron!”.
Ignoring for the moment the extra times away from Special Someone, such as commuting, surfing adult websites, and watching horror movies, this still leaves the POTENTIAL of not dying alone hovering under the 33% mark, which — to put not too fine a point on it — are what most odds-scientists refer to as “not so great.”
The only reasonable solution — the only thing that can assure one does not die alone — is to arrange to be murdered.
To overload the operators, so to speak, one really ought to be arranged to be murdered by Special Someone, such that all the money spent on invitations and catering for the wedding would not have gone to waste.
Admittedly, most folks worthy of the title of Special Someone achieved that title in part due to the fact that they are less likely to acquiesce to murdering you, so this can be a very awkward conversation. However, note that as the years move on and the Special Someone starts slithering into the category of Soon-to-be-Ex-Special Someone, the magical balance between caring and caring enough to swing a butcher knife rapidly approaches. Be ready!
As a lemma, be careful to not state too clearly the conditions under which one’s death ought to occur (“I don’t want to die alone” being a prime example). Sometimes, overzealous friends and enemies will conspire playfully to arrange for those conditions pre-mortem, and then in the midst of festivities, decide to not let the moment slip by, and create a few holes where there were none before. In short, don’t go camping with a group of friends whom you have recently told “When I die, I want to be surrounded by my friends, and out in the woods.”