Only recently did a cruel reality suddenly appear before me: that after I die I’ll miss out on so many books and movies and albums. Leave alone everything that will be released after I die; I dare not ponder what greatness I’ll be missing, as it can’t be helped. There are just too many good things out there right now I still have a shot at. Too many for one lifetime.
The way I see it, my options are:
A) bank on a good draw upon reincarnation and try to use the extra time wisely;
B) frantically read and see and listen to everything in a desperate yet futile fight against the crushing march of mortality;
C) cry.
Not lookin’ good…
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