Riding Dolphins in the Sky

I've read a lot about Death as of late and I think I've stumbled upon something. I don't think I'm afraid of death. That in itself is worrisome.

I kind of realized this on past interactions with "bullies" (for lack of a better word). Recently, there was this fuckstick at work who thought he was being a funny tough-guy in front of the rest of the coworkers there, as he was belittling me. I had moved some of his supplies because I was told to by my and everyone else's boss, my father. He was going on about this and that how some little kid (I like to think I look a little more intimidating than a kid, but that's just me) moved his shit around. I told him that he has his job, and I have my job. His shit was in my way, preventing me from doing my job, so I moved it. I then told him that I don't bitch and complain when people throw my brooms around, because they're just brooms and I don't give a fuck. He retaliated saying that saying his materials are expensive, which is true, but I reminded him that he isn't the one paying for them. Then he gets mad because that's the only thing these dummies know how to do once they run out of things to say and says "Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me the way you do, you laborer?" and I said "You know the guy who hires you and keeps you employed here? I'm his son. Who the fuck are you?" That shut him up.

I guess that was in the workplace and he didn't have much of a choice but to walk away or lose his job, so it doesn't really count.

But there was one incident where I easily could have been turned to pulp.
There's this jock-douche on campus who is... well, a douche. I'm not going to give his name away, but the readers ( all 2 of you ) will probably know who I'm talking about anyway.
We were at a big party, and I was about to leave, when he, in a drunken stupor, says "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"
Me: "well, away from this party, for one. Then probably home, seeing as it's 2AM. Is that okay with you?"
Douche: "Yeah where the fuck is that?"
Me: "I'm not telling you where I live. Get Fucked"

This was one opporunity.
Not even five minutes later, as i'm waiting for my company to arrive, he walks by me and mumbles some insult at me.

Me: "You know i can hear you, right?"

This was another opportunity.

My company had arrived and I left. this time I had passed him on the street. He looked at me, and I looked back as if to say "Well?..."

I wasn't aiming to taunt him, but from an outside point of view it probably looked that way.

To clarify, I am not stating that I am superior to this douche-tard (although I know for certain that I am smarter and nicer) and I know that he could pound my face in at any given moment.

My point is this: I'm not afraid of things like that. He could have beaten the piss out of me, of course, but I don't care.

I digress.

I don't think I'm afraid to die. Hell, I've downed numerous bottles of pills, but I still wake up the next morning. I'd feel okay if this was my last day on Earth. Why? Because I haven't accomplished anything spectacular that would warrant any ambition for more.
I've come to terms long ago with friendships inevitably ending due to distance and personal changes and things like that. The same with family.
Nothing seems to fascinate me anymore.

I just don't care.