Life's a Bitch, Then You Die

Some people believe in God. Some people don't. Some people believe in the afterlife, and some people don't. Some people believe in truth, and some people don't. Some people believe that they exist, and some people don't. Some people believe that there is good and evil, and some people don't. I don't care what some people think. I believe that life's a bitch, then you die.

Yeah, maybe it's a little pessimistic. But as far as I'm concerned, that's what's going to happen. It's going to happen to everybody, including me and you and those Bible-toting, pro-life, you'll-go-to-hell-for-your-sins Christians and those crazy, dope-smoking, tree-hugging, Volkswagen-bus-driving hippies and your parents and those philosophers and cancer patients and small dogs and world leaders and your ex-girlfriend/boyfriend and the lone hermit in the woods and famous celebrities. And that's what happened to Jesus too, if he actually did exist.

Why am I writing this? I don't know. Mortality sucks. I probably wouldn't want to live forever, but living as long as you wanted to would be pretty sweet. It could be useful because you could do whatever it is you wanted to accomplish, provided you didn't die in a gruesome accident beforehand, then you die a fulfilled life, and not worry about dying unsatisfied.

This is depressing. I'm done.