Bucket Lists

I have never truly understood the point of bucket lists. To me, they are the last vestiges of a life lived unfulfilled, a last chance dash to do all the shit before you die you refused to take the chances to do before it became nearly too late. Once, they were lists of “things to do before I die” utilized by the aged or terminal. Now it seems every teenager not yet out of high school has one.

Don’t get me wrong; I am ALL for setting goals, both attainable and lofty. But this shit is just ridiculous. What became so wrong with just living your fucking life, every day, to the fullest possible for that day? Is that not worthy enough a goal? Hell, the gods know it is about as lofty as one can get!

Let me explain why I have no bucket list…

1. I have given birth. Not just once, but three times.. twice without an epidural. One of those times was back labor and I broke the damn plastic railings AND the steel handlebars pushing my first born out.. With the second, I screamed so loudly pushing his little wee (HAHAHA wee.. ALL my kids have big fuckin’ heads! 🙂 ) head out..and woke the entire hospital. With the last, my daughter, I said fuck this shit, I am woman enough to do this sans medication and man enough to demand drugs. I left one behind to attempt to get my shit straight (and failed, thanks to cancer…) adopted one out, and have one living with me. I think I pretty much covered all those bases.

2. I have survived cancer. I am up at 3:35AM on my daughter’s first day of first grade, in fact, because I am celebrating a decade of being cancer-free. I am sure my neighbours hate me and Jack Daniels thanks me. I don’t much fucking care, either way. I found out I had at least one brain tumour, pin-sized holes in my brain, a heart murmur and a fucked valve AND cervical cancer in the same day in 2002. Thankfully, all the brain shit was wrong. I had an extremely experimental laser surgery that was not yet approved to remove most of the lining of my cervix, and was told I’d never have another kid. 10 years and two kids later.. I am still here, fighting, with a god damn smile.

3. I have had two abortions. I don’t need to go in to the detauils. Suffice it to say, had I NOT had one, I would not have found out I had cervical cancer as I did. It went from pre-cancerous cells to full-blown cancer in two fucking weeks. It was aggressive enough, my doctor recommended a highly experimental laser suergery (which is now common) because he didn’t think anything else would work, as in that two week period, my cervix was completely eaten up. I went back for a follow-up after my second of two, and found out I had pre-cancerous cells.. two weeks later for an additional biopsy and pap..and WHAM, can you stay and go ahead and have surgery today? This was August, 2002. Say what you want. that soul I let go of is here today. Smiling. and I was alive to give it life BECAUSE I denied it life previously. Fuck you, this is NOT up for debate.

4. I have given birth completely and totally alone, outside of medical professionals.. to this day, 8 years later, that is the most painful thing I have ever endured. And can still, to this day, make me cry.

5. I have survived one of the worst abusive relationships/marriages I have ever known or heard about on a personal level. I thought I was blind, wiped away the blood, could see, then went blind again not understanding. I have dodged a door being slammed down towards my 6-month pregnant belly, and managed to deflect it where I suffered a cracked wrist and ripped cartalege, but the child survived. I have felt the skin of my forehead stick to my eyelashes, I have seen the inside of my skull, I have seen my brain pulsate and seize, and tried to touch it, while giggling. I have had two stitches sans numbing aganets..with a shot of Bacardi 151 before the first, and in between the other two. I shoved the third stitch through myself, since no one else could….very matter of fact and completely detached. I have taken a bath and seen my blood discolour the purity of the clear cleansing waters..and I have laughed so hard I busted not one, but two of those forehead stitches. I have EARNED crow’s feet around my eyes despite the hells I walked through by my own stupid choices.

….I have felt my soul collapse around me, and my heart wither in pain.. I have felt the absolute emptiness of NOTHING in my heart or soul…and felt the pain of trying desperately to come back..and failing.. over an dover.

6. I have seen a trash can full of bloody paper towels the cops used to clean my father’s blood when he put a hollow point through his forehead. I have seen the mess a man can make of his life.. with trash towering to my shoulders, and hoarding as if a person were a dragon preparing for final death. I have gone 13 and 15 years without speaking to a brother due to lies..and felt the struggle to overcome them to bond and love once more.

7. I have felt the weight of a gun and the weight of death and the weight of love upon my heart…. each strong enough as to rip me asunder.

8. I have laid to rest a parent who committed suicide..and have taken over 3 years to begin to deal with it. I have seen the other in and out of ICU for 7 years, refusing to even try to live any longer; simply existing and losing all muscle mass to absolute fat…until she can barely function beyond a computer these days. {{sighs}} I have held the bone fragments and shards of my father.. and the ashes..I have screamed and railed and cried abd bled..until I cast his remains in to the wind, and ALLOWED myself to be somewhat at peace.

9. I have wallowed in nothingness..in self-pity and hurt nd lack of understanding. I broke myself ocmpletely down and rebuilt myself from nothin to what I am now, choosing each individual piece that now makes up the whole that I am. I reminded myself several times every day for months.. to find something, to cling to something beautiful. To remind myself I love for ME, and no one else….those who I welcome in to my life are all the more special for my desire for them.

10. I have had knives and guns and other weapons pulled on me.. had fingers and hand sliced with an actual (not decorative sword)…I have been terrified..absolutely certain I would die.. I have given up, laughed at Death, made peace with him, and he, and Life, because my friends. My compatriots. My enemies. My confidants.

11. I have defended the weak, though it put me and loved ones in grave danger. Grave enough I was nearly killed for it, more than once. Oh, how I truly wish this were exaggeration…

12. I have watched someone get beaten severely while I did nothing..after months of defending said person with my life..and paying for it dearly. In some ways, this still haunts me in some hidden place. Overall.. I feel nothing. Though, at the time… What can I say? She never defended me, though I took several beatings for her. there comes a time when you MUST let someone stand up for themselves…

13. I have taken more beatings than I care to even try to recount..without a single fucking sound, no matter how bad it goet. the only sound I ever made..was when my ex attempted to “pop my wrist back in to place”..when it was swollen to the size of a softball..and it hurt badly enough I went feral, scratching and biting him, and apparently jumping about 6′ back, clearing a coffee table and a couch, 6 months pregnant… Or I laughed.
{{chuckles}} Once you laugh at Death, nothing.. NOTHING.. in your life will ever be the same again. Everything will be tinged with both horros and glee. Sadness and happiness. Sorrow and happiness…tears and laughter. Always.

14. I have protected the life of my infant with my silence..though rage burned in my eyes.

15. I have packed all necessary belongings in less than 30 minutes and have been out the door, with an infant..on the road to safety.

16. I have survived a highly abusive relationship.. not better for the journey for several years…

17. I have suffered PTSD episodes so badly, I have hurt loved ones..

18. I have been stomped in the head, I have had teeth knocked out while I laughed, I have busted a dude’s nut in a pit.. and I have howled in release while beting the shit out of people. I have slung 200-300 pound men around a 20′ wide pit as if they weighed absolutely nothing. And there are witnesses. 🙂

19. I have howled at the moon.

20. I have danced in the rain.. often.

21. I have stomped in mud puddles with my children.

22. I have played in and gotten covered by mud with my children.

23. I have jumped off precipices deeper and darker than I ever imagined, eyes closed, arms out, with a smile.. not knowing if anyone woul dever catch me..and no one ever did. And when I soared, I fucking SOARED. And when I landed, I grinned, dusted my shit off, and continued walking, hands in my pockets and whistling.

24. I have given up completely.

25. I have done the impossible, I have failed the absolute.

26. I have made friends who have become family…they have my honour, my trust, my loyalty, my love.. and I have theirs.

27. I have been to more funerals than weddings, baby showers and births combined, times three.

28. I have given fetish advice to a prostitute.

29. I have danced until I was absolutely falling-down dizzy..drank until I was puking and blackout drunk…laughed during sex, cried during movies, and lived in a haze.

30. I have sang to the moon.

31. I have written songs for my children, that I sing only to and for them.

32. I have laid on the grass – or sidewalk – as an adult and watched the clouds rolls by…finding shapes in them.

I have lived on the edge, I have dived in to the abyss. I have crawled, fought, screamed and demanded my way back up. I have found my balance, my middleground between light and dark.. though the hustler in me will alwqays prefer the dark.. I demand balance of myself for my children. I don’t deserve them, but they deserve the best I can give them.

I have found my salvation lies in my sins.. If they can be called that. I am full of wrath and rage.. lust and gluttony.. And I exist in the pride I HAVE SURVIVED IT ALL.

I do not fear my emotions..least of all lust or wrath. I feed them..I wallow in them..I breathe life into them.

I don’t need a bucket list. I don’t need a list of shit to do before I die. I live every god damn moment I am given. I am already 10 years over what many thought I’d have, when the cancer was found. I am 5.5 years past walking out on my abusive ex…I am 6.5 years past him splitting my head open so far I could see my own grey matter.

What the fuck do I, you, or anyone, need of a bucket list, when we 24 hours, 1440 minutes, 86,400 seconds EVERY DAY to live to our fucking fullest? Why do I need to make a LIST of places to go, people to meet, shit to do.. when I already know the best motherfuckers..experience life in orgasmic ways even outside of sex….I have had sex great enough to make me cry or faint..and to wake back up grateful I was still being fucked in such an amazing way, I began to cry and forget to breathe yet again. I have felt such a deep rending of my soul, I felt I was dying.. I have lost so much blood at once, I SHOULD have died, and this many years later, doctors have no idea why I am still alive..much less funtioning.


Life filled with abandon.











But mostly.. It is my own fucking choice that has kept me here, kept me fighting, kept me breathing and laughing and loving and putting one fucking foot ahead of the other.

It is CHOICE that has created crow’s feet around my eyes that were prominent even at 28…crow’s feet that show that, despite all my grievious hurts, I have still managed to laugh through this fucked up marionette show we call life.

The negative karma I recieved at the hands of my ex has been repaid in the people I am fucking blessed to know, to call family..be they genetically linked or not.

“What makes us family is not the blood flowing through our veins, but the love flowing through our hearts.”

CHOICE, people.

You do not need a god damn list to really live. You do not need specific lofty goals to do more than exist. You just have to CHOOSE to live this life every second. to take every opportunity you want. Don’t just knock on that door.. you bust that motherfucker down, grin saucily, tip your god damn hat and tell it.. Hey. I’m here. Follow, lead, or get the FUCK out of the way.

Don’t let your fears stop you.

Don’t let the inadequacies of others make your steps falter.

Don’t walk the shitty path someone else carved through the fucking woods, put on your big girl panties, your knee high shit-kicker boots and you make your own god damn path through that fucker, with a spring in your step and a huge fucking smile.

The point is.. In this life, we’re all scurry-scurry hurry-hurry. We feel we have to make to-do lists and plans and blah blah holy shit to make it to the finish line “right”. You know what? If you’re not truly living, all the fucking lists in the world aren’t going to help that.

So do yourself a favour. Rip those fuckers to shreds. Let go all the pieces on the edge of the cliff. Close your eyes, feel the wind in your hair.. smile.. spread your arms wide.. And jump the fuck off. Even if you fall, enjoy the ride. If you land it perfectly, grin and keep going. If you hit the ground hard, chuckle, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and dance a jig as you keep going. No one in this world can TRULY live your life but you. And you’ve already wasted so much time.

FUCK lists. FUCK plans. This is life, and it’s your only shot to get it right.

2 thoughts on “Bucket Lists

  1. Bucket lists are stupid, and I blame The Bucket List (though a fairly amusing movie) for their current popularity among the follow-minded in our midst. Good rant, though 😀

  2. I find them absolutely ridiculous. Besides which, I’ve done so much shit I couldn’t imagine trying to make a bucket list. What the fuck would I put on it? “Go one day without terrorizing someone”?? “Manage to NOT get in weird situations”?? No, but thanks.

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