until a later date? You were always so good at putting things off in
school, why not procrastinate on your own suicide? You don’t have to
do it now, you know. You’ll be healthy for quite a while before the real
physical suffering sets in, so why not have a good time? You’ve still
got some money, and when that runs out there’s always credit cards.
And let’s not forget crime! What fun we could have! You’ve got
nothing to lose, Jake, and nothing to fear anymore. You wanted
freedom? Who could be more free than a man who knows he’s going
to die? You can do anything you want, no matter how illicit and not
even give it a second thought.
All of a sudden, I felt as if all this was a blessing in disguise. I
had been in the trappings of what was considered to be a normal
existence. Now I was given the keys to life on the edge. I had my ass
kicked, and I’ve landed on my feet, only to find that I was previously
standing on my head! I jumped up off the sand and started to dance
in my own interpretation of an American Indian tribal ritual. I had no
idea what I was doing, but it felt good. I honored the passing of my
old life and the start of a new one.
I never really wanted the kind of life I had been heading for
anyway. I didn’t want to be a cog in the machine. I didn’t want to be
faceless and at the mercy of that soul-belching monster. I wanted to
have a little machine of my own somewhere. Even if my machine was
only going to be a disposable lighter like the one I almost killed
myself with—my machine would burn bright and hot while it lasted.
And it would be all mine.
I was suddenly stunned into abject bliss by the uncontrolled
flooding of humors through my mind and body. God, thisis what I
wished I could feel every hour of every day. The gusto for
unrestrained living that showed up in the shadow of dying. Free from
doubt, guilt or fear. Those poor dogs in those electrified cages, giving
up, ceasing to try to make a difference. Well, damn it, I thought, I’m
not going to stop! Life has played its little tricks on me—left me for
dead, but this time I could crawl out of that electrified cage, turn the
brutal machine off and walk out of the laboratory. It was all over
there, across the horizon of my periphery. I could taste it suddenly,
this freedom, just on the tip of my tongue. And so I would stick out
my tongue at the world, not a vulgar expression meant as an insult,
but a naked display of my human soul.
“Yippee, old pal,” I screamed out into the mysterious blackness,
“I changed my mind! I’m postponing my exit visa! I’ve still got a little
BIG AMERICAN BREAKFAST
64
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