Tuesday

Mid Existence Crisis (422)



Circling through the void I find myself once again debating my own existence, I'll admit it is a strange position to be in. I mean I know I exist, the whole "I think therefore I am" clause covers that but what am I?

I am death.

Who am I?

I am death.

where am I?

I am everywhere yet nowhere all at once. I don't get to judge, well I'm not meant to and when I do the outcome never changes anyway.

I am the inevitable climax of your life, I am . . .

I am . . . 

I am . . .  bored.

I have existed since the dawn of mankind. I will continue to exist until the very last one of you pathetic, immoral, fragile creatures decides that enough is enough and shuffles off the mortal coil.

I will be there to catch you, to guide you into the light, to send you to your chosen deity, and I can't wait.

But then what?

If there is no you, what happens to me?

Animals die all the time, in a whole host of stupid ways. Even by your pathetically low human standards. They don't feel the need to create me, to fear me, they are content to live and then die.

I tried processing an ant once, I asked if it had led a good life and if it thought it deserved to go to heaven. It said it was only looking for leaves. It didn't care about anything else so I let it be. Admittedly there is the odd human who feel the same way as the ant but the majority rules, and once I come knocking on your door you do tend to feel the same.

"I'm not ready." 

"What have I done to deserve this?"

"I'm innocent!"

"I thought they had WMD'!"

The terminally ill, now they tend to have a modicum of self respect about them.

"What took you so long?"

"I don't hurt anymore!"

"Thank you"

The grateful dead are the ones who confuse me the most, I have ended their existence, they are no more. They'll never see anyone they love or hate again, never experience. . . Well anything ever again and yet, they are happy.

Sometimes I don't think I will ever truly understand you, you infuriate me and amaze me in equal measure. You are capable of love and blind hate. You are selfish, idiotic specks of life, alone in this vast universe yet think you are somehow special.

You aren't, and you're days are numbered.

So make them count.



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