Once you pop…

Part of growing old is to see people around you die. Someone told me this years ago and I recently thought back on it. I’m only 20 years old and I’m already confronted with it; people my age, people of my father’s generation, heck even newborns disappear one by one. I wonder if it’s natural for someone my age to be seeing it like that. 3 people in the last month alone, each from a different generation. Kind of scares me a little, aren’t people you love supposed to be immortal? They don’t just die like that, so we can take them for granted and say and do things we’ll never regret, because they will always be there. No need for them to know that you love them, no need to tell them. There’s always time for that. Always.

So we live on, shaking off the doubt if they will be taken care of after they die, or that they knew they had nothing to regret. Take a deep breath and tell yourself death is a part of life, and try not to wonder who’s next in line. Try your best to feel safe again, ready to take those close to you for granted again.

Luckily we’ll probably never reach the situation where we run out of loved ones. A child born yesterday could be the nurse that will take care of you when you’re old and demented. Or maybe the bus driver that drives you and the rest of the rest home to the beach on your annual day out, making you so excited you shit your diaper. As long as humans reproduce like bunnies there will always be people to love. And this paragraph has absolutely no point.

 

1/8 people are unable to fall in love. Or was it 1/12? Yeah, 1/8 were gay. Doesn’t matter. They know and are able to feel the concept attraction and love, but lack the hormones to literally be, "in love". When we were told this in biology class, everybody went "oh my, that’s horrible. How sad." and so on. Including me, young and naive. Now I have grown to envy them. If you don’t know what you’re missing it’s easy to live without, the only difference is the burden they don’t have to carry.

Of course, that is, if they know. I can imagine someone hating himself because he can’t figure out why he doesn’t love his girlfriend the way she loves him, thinking there’s something terribly wrong with him. But if you would know and manage not to care, that’s a big weight off your shoulders.

 

Ever had those moments where you just wanted to.. burst? "Scream until you choke out your soul" someone described it as before. I should get myself a punching bag someday. So far Tool and Metallica have helped me through those moments, but wanting to break your father’s custom-made speakers is a little inconvenient when you’re not home alone. They don’t like you punching walls. They don’t understand at all, and that makes us the freak. Makes us wrong.

 

Pointless Yet Fun Fact: Around 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 neutrinos from the Sun will pass through your body while you read this sentence.

Also, Webcomics Rock.

 

 

So there. A whole post without mentioning the appartment we still haven’t found, or broken relationships. Irony is my middle name.

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