Like This Planet Just Collects Dead Bodies

i don’t know if i can have a cat i’m 38 years old and i’m on disability for a mental illness i’m told i don’t have in new york city and all i can figure is that i’m some kind of historical figure in academia like i’m a story they would tell in english literature class to sophomores about how it can keep getting worse until it gets better and like my latest large literary thought is the distance between memory and reality like i can remember freshman year at university and i don’t actually know for certain how long ago that was like i know time is passing by and that i am aging but i don’t know precisely how much time i have to live in the moment it seems like time moves like the slowest thing there but looking back i wonder just how slow it actually moved like in this moment i know time is this moment but when i can only remember this moment how much time from this moment to remembering this moment is there and i have to ask my landlord if i can get a cat and it’d be nice to have something to play with and take care of but i don’t know i just know i’m 38 and i’ll probably live to be i don’t know what people die all the time but i wonder about death and the experience of life and i’m sort of curious how i came to exist like what fantastical equation from the beginning of the universe to this moment right here what astronomical statistically improbably equation did i decide needed to be true what led up to my existence and what are the odds that i existed and then i was born and have to die and i don’t know precisely how long a life last but i know i’m 38 and am surprised by just how long ago i was in college and then before that high school and i don’t know much i just know i exist and i’m not entirely certain why especially considering i am going to be resting forever like i didn’t exist then i did and then i wont again like this planet just collects dead bodies

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