Drowning and Other Things I Plan on Doing

I will die by drowning.

I have already accepted that fact that my life will be taken away by the cold, watery hand of the deep end of the local pool. If I ever find myself in water that I cannot stand up in, then I know that I will die on that fateful day.

I never learned how to swim. I lived in Phoenix, Arizona for a part of my childhood. This is a place where it’s regularly around 110 degrees in the summer, so having a pool was needed in order not to die. I was never fortunate enough to own a pool, but my cousin was. He had a pool and in the summer, we would all gather together as a family and take a dip in the water.

I remember my uncle and grandma holding me by the chest while I laid horizontally and paddled around the perimeter of the pool to at least give me the illusion that I could swim. The illusion eventually faded however, and I was once again bound to the shallow end of the pool where the water would reach right up to my bellybutton.

It was around that time where I realized that I could not swim. Growing up, people tell you that you can do anything because you’re special, but not special-er than the other kids because no one is more special than anyone else, all kids are special equally, almost like a sick way to get kids to buy into communism or something.

Anyways, since I knew that I couldn’t swim, or did not know how to swim, I decided to stay away from situations that would create the necessity for me to swim or float. I figured if I didn’t know how to swim, them there was no way that I could learn how to swim. It was as if I believed that I was born with every skill that I could ever hope to have in my life, and if I didn’t have a certain skill, well tough shit, better luck next life.

So, for the entirety of my childhood I stayed away from pools. This means that I would stay home during field trips to the pool, or I would stand next to the pool, dry, as everyone else had fun.

All the kids would go to the pool as I decided to stay home and be a dry son of a bitch the entire day. I would get invites to go swim from my friends on occasion. Trying to convince a bunch of middle school boys that you don’t want to hang out with them because you “just don’t wanna” must be the hardest thing one can go through apart from bankruptcy.

So the years went on and I stayed away from water. I tell people that I can’t swim and suddenly they are all expert swimming instructors. Every single person just knows they will be the one to give me the gift of swimming. As of today, I will only take swim lessons from Micheal Phelps and really evolved dolphins capable of speech and higher thought.

I think part of the reason I refuse to take swim lessons is because, secretly, I want to drown. Hear me out. I don’t want to drown. I’m not actively pursuing a career in drowning. I just think it would be kinda ironic for me to drown. My stubbornness would be the death of me. I know drowning is in the top five list of worst possible deaths, but boy! do I love me some irony. Or maybe it’s not even irony. I think it would be kinda funny to whatever God does or does not exist. If I die a watery death, God might be waiting for me on the other side, laughing his divine heart out. Anything for the sake of a bad joke.

Water you afraid of dying from?

H.G. Salas




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