‘I’d like to be the type of person who finds great pleasure in her own inevitable death’

Notes on pleasure

1. Is pleasure when I take a bath with lots and lots of special salts? And the bath salt brand belongs to a friend, who just started her own bath salt brand, so I feel this great reverence and prayer for these salts, and for this bath, and for this friend, and the company I keep in general? And does the pleasure of this bath grow when there’s a joint full of garden weed between my fingers, and I’m smoking indoors, and there’s no one to tell me no, and there’s no one waiting for my call, and I’m still alive, so very much alive, but satisfied enough that if I died tonight, I’d feel complete, I’d be proud of all I’ve said and done so far?
2. I’d like to be the type of person who finds great pleasure in her own inevitable death. Isn’t that the ultimate own? The ultimate defeat? Can death be conquered by anything other than Life? And when I say Life, I mean, Life as it is expressed as a great vibrancy? Life that doesn’t just accept its sentence, but embraces it in joyful reverence? There is a long and diverse spectrum that exists between Life and Death. I only speak in such simple contrasts with aims to collapse both into an invisible, felt truth. I always resonated with a Celebration of Life over a Funeral… Pleasure in what was, which came from nothing, and has now returned home to that same nothing. Does Pleasure point to where the life is? Even in a fleeting moment, even when there’s a cost?
3. Pleasure is in the overcoming.
4. I believe in Heaven. Heaven and Pleasure can access one another through a bridge, but it’s a narrow and unreliable one, if that. Heaven implies a space so untethered that not even Pleasure needs to exist. Pleasure becomes irrelevant in Heaven because, well, you’re in Heaven. You don’t need those Earthly tools anymore. You don’t need to rub sticks together to make fire. You don’t need anything! This asserts, to me, that Pleasure is , innately, an entity of Earth, of The Density , of The Body.
5. Pleasure wants me as much as I want her. Pleasure prefers flirtation over pursuit. Pleasure requires my willing perception. Pleasure dances wildly between the limit and the edge. Pleasure told me not to tell my parents.
6. Is pleasure why we’re here? I’d say no, not in totality, but, pleasure is , indeed, a vital character of the whole cake. A bite out of the fridge at midnight, even. Sometimes pleasure is a map or a mirror. You sit with the concept of pleasure long enough and you’ll notice that it’s more than just chemicals and a sense of satisfaction noted after the fact. It surrounds, guides, narrates. It envelops and threatens. In all accounts…; it gestures , then initiates release.