As George Carlin put it: “If God’s so great how come everything He makes dies??”



I do this thing constantly — and I’m not sure it’s a healthy thing — where I’m constantly thinking about people that have died. They’ll just pop in my head for no reason. “Remember Mott? . . Chip . . Annie . . Robin . . Bubble Guy . . Soup . . Harold . . David . . Craig . . Teddy. . Claire . . Vince . . Yumie . . Duncan . . Hate Man . . .?”

I don’t know why I do it. Maybe its a way of trying to understand the mystery of death. Or maybe its a way of AVOIDING thinking about death — if I keep their memory alive it’s like a part of them is still alive.

As I get older this world seems less and less solid and less real. When I was younger the world seemed more solid and real (you’d think it would work the other way around). And I think its because so many people I know have died. They just disappeared, and its like they never really existed in the first place. And maybe I don’t really exist. Maybe I’m just a ghost temporarily trapped within human flesh.

Of the 7 billion people on the planet (or is it 8 billion? we’re multiplying so fast its hard to keep track) almost all of us will be completely forgotten within 200 years. Entire ancient cultures are completely forgotten — the kings and great men of their ages now little more than dust, gobbled up like all of us, by the endless expanse of eternity.



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