Brain Spooge

I'm Mortal

That sucks, I've been sat quietly enjoying some 'retro' soul-funk tunes while playing a game, minding my own business.

But it strikes me, I'm going to die.

And that's kinda shitty, I mean, really... after all this, I just die? That's harsh. I've had some fun times, I've got memories of people, places, events...

I can look around and see all the trinkets I've gathered thus far, my models, my computer, note pads filled with nonsense and whims, even just looking at the battered desk to my left it conjures memories... I was only just 18 or 19... young still, life throbbing excitedly in front of me.

I went places, there's a photo on my right above a window of me, sat gormlessly smiling as my mother took a picture of me I forget where, but I remember we were visiting some dull and uninspiring foreign place in blazing heat... I remember the white walls, the grey rocks...

And fuck it all.

All of this, my memories, my desires my books of nonsense, that picture, that desk - fecking everything here, this meat-body of mine included.

In the long run, it really does mean nothing.

It's infuriating, maddening and fills me with dismay that me, and hundreds, thousands... fucking MILLIONS of people before me, we've all been "here". They're gone now, I'm here.

There have likely been people sat right where I am which are no longer trotting about.

What a silly bloody thing life is.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not feeling particularly morose nor am I about to book a single ticket to a specialist clinic in Sweden. But I just can't help but realise how utterly stupid it all is.

I'm worried about my phone bill.

HOW FUCKING STUPID IS THAT!

I can contemplate my own mortality, but only so far as I can see that existence itself is a bloody joke.
It feels wasteful that I've done all these things, it feels wasteful and quite sad.