If the world ends tomorrow, I have to admit, I'd be a little bummed.
I mean, yeah, being alive is kind of tiring. Permanent sleep would be pretty sweet. Minus the whole lack of consciousness to enjoy it thing? My BFF tagged me in this pic on Facebook, which pretty much sums up my existence.
So yeah, in theory, the end of the world would save me from myself and all the trials and tribulations no doubt ahead in my rather uncertain future. But you know, there's a lot of life left for me to live.
I still having found a purpose, a goal, a passion. And I need to have more sex. And make more money. Plus you know, less shallow stuff too...make some sort of mark on the world, leave a legacy, do some good. Travel to all the countries on my list, ride an elephant, see all the wonders of this planet. Have a life. Fall in desperate love with someone I can't live without.
If the world ends, though, I won't have time to miss any of those things. 'Cause we'll all be dead.
This is not a very optimistic post, is it?
Sleep tight, and I'll see you in the morning. Maybe.