“That would be a terrible death.”
I’m sitting eating a tray of oysters, hearing this. I don’t know who said it. I realize that the statement is strangely reassuring at about the same moment I notice that I am accidentally centered in the window frame across from me.
The only thing here, that might not fit in with what is happening in Infinite Jest, would—might be the oyster bit, but I’m not letting that part go (and well then, now it fits so well).
Infinite Jest gives us multiple forms of terrible deaths to consider. And now, a couple of cities away from my copy of Infinite Jest, I’m seeing what is possibly relieving about this.
Being an Infinite Winter participant that is, on most occasions, still uncomfortable with the idea that death is part of the deal (the deal with living)—I become a little more comfortable just after the moments that I hear anyone casually bring up death.
Hearing is the thing, see?! You’ve got to hear it to start to get it. And thank your good shit luck if you get to hear about death a few hundred times before you actually hear death or see death. And it shouldn’t be good shit luck; I’d like everyone to really think of it as a prerequisite obligation. One that each of us is teaching, regularly.
Try it. Like, in a no big deal, brief and real way. And if it is someone else doing the talking, hear it, and move on.
And this somehow adds up to making the moving better. Because there is a realizing that the moving can only happen while it can, or until it can no longer.
Which then, this gives me reason to break from this spot, centered in the window frame.