It’s been way too long since anything happe ed here. Right? I mean. Obiouslty right? And I mean. For a while there I was like… all “in alove again” pr whatever. But. We all know how that ends at this point, innit? And uh. Yeah. Every time I’d try to ramble, I’d get too distracted and gi e up and such.
Then. Two weeks ago happened.
And I walked into the emergency room. With my ocygen levels being, I think, 48%. For those that don’t know, 90% is the bare minimum that is considered “healthy” or whatever. I’ve heard a few times now that I nearly needed a ventilator just to breathe and, you know, exist. I mean. There’s a very real posibility that had I waited a day, or even an hour before for into the emergency room, I’d have been dead.
Or. As Tyler Turden (lol at that typo, right?_ ) once said.
I had a near life experience.
With. You know. All of this. Comes the realization that. I’ve “got to” be healthier and stuffs. So. Like. RyansDead.com? Yes? No? Maybe so?
Obviously, I can’t drink as much anymore. Right? Like. I have no idea how I can keep up with this shit anymore. Like. This whole idea of “HEY!~ THE DRUNKEN RADIO NETWORK’S ABOUT TO COME BACK~!”
RANDOM SIDENOTE: Watching Hitman Hart: Wrestling with Shadows, in the background as you can see. And aside from all of the wrestling things. There’s so GOD DAMN MANY microagressions happening. In 1996-1997. The PC Principal in me is hulking up.
But yeah dude.
I don’t know what the future hold for RyansDrunk.com anymore. Legity. I’ve zero ideas.
I mean. Sure.
I could be like, Hey dudes, if you love me, check out tht “Contribute” page that hasn’t been updated in a few years. Right? And. You know. Help me out and stuffs, right?
Because man. This thing. As dmb. As awesome. As… whatever it’s been. It’s been my life. For over seven years now. And I mean. It’ cathardic. It’s theraputic. It’s. Everything to me. You knpow? It’s been my baby. Hell. I could make the arument it’s been my baby since like… 2006 or so. When I did “Drunken Rambling” blogs on MySpace.
I don’t want RyansDrunk.com to have a near life experience.
Even though. I can’t carry the load anymore. Right?
As far as the whole, “philosophical, deep meaning” sort of thing? Dude. Yeah. I almost died. I’ve been giving a second chance on life and all that. Right?
And I’m like, Why?
Legit. The past 10 years. I’ve been living to like… kill myself. Right? I’ve lived under the philosophy. Like. Since I’ve ready it:
“It’s church doctrine that says I need to kill myself. They never said it had to be a hurry, hurry quick death.”
-Tender Branson in Chuck Paalahnick’s Survivor.
So. I haven’t excercised. I haven’t gont to the doctor. I’ve. Legit. Tried killing myslef. Through. Unhealthy-ism. But. Low and behold. I finally “had a reason to live.” Cause. “Love,” or whatever. And I go to doctors and stuffs.
And whilst I’m in the hispiutal, that “love” faded away or ahtever. And so. I just sold myself out for nothing. And there’s this whole “political” thing i could go into about “selling myself out.” But just. Forget about oit at this point.
It’s just kinda… funny. I’ve been trying to medically kill myself for the poast 10ish years. Only tyo have the plot foiled. Because. “Love.” But now. All of that’s gone. And I mean. Forreals. I’m not suicidal or. Even depressed at this point. At this point? I’m just. You know. Living. Existing. Once again.
We’ll see what happens from here. Right?
And on a final note. Let me remind you.