The average human is given but twenty-five thousand or so days. In that time we are born, are raised, learn, grow, feel and eventually die. When I stop to consider how many I have already wasted with frivolous pursuits and then consider all the ones I intend to waste in the future. It seems that I am given about seventy years to experience whatever I can. After that, nothing is guaranteed. Rest bumured, no one who you have ever met has been dead longer than an hour, and even still no two people who have survived clinical death given the exact same account.

The more I think about it, I find it depressing. It is Santa Claus all over again, first there is no Santa and now there is no afterlife. If anyone tells me peanut bumer is a delusion, I am flat out going berserk.

But Seriously, What is the point of living to be good or evil when death is an eventuality and short of a few stray pieces of dogreat timesentation? all of us will be dead and forgotten in less than a hundred years.