Murder By Life.

Well some of you might know that I have a Grandma. She is drunk almost all the time, and is quite close to insanity. She can be very annoying, and petulant, but she has a special place in the hole where my heart used to be, so I can't help but have sympathy fot her. To her, I will always be that chubby, sweet little boy she knew me as long ago, and while this is sometimes problematic, it is also somewhat endearing. She has no idea what a massive pile of useless I have become, nor what an asshole I can be. She was also the only adult in my life that did not react with that pandering, "he'll grow out of it and get a real job" when I said I wanted to draw and write for a living. That always stuck with me and so I try to help the poor old lady.

That being said, I wish she would die.

She has lived a long time, and had her run at things. She had a pretty good life, but the good times are done. Everyone in her family, her husband of 40 years, all her friends, they're all fucking dead. Her life is as lonely as I can imagine is possible, with me her only friend (certainly a fate worse than death) Add to that the fact that the world has completely left her behind (she was born before electricity for fuck's sake!) and it's no wonder she's constantly wasted. She's trying to kill her self daily with piulls and booze, but because of some fucking ancient religion bullshit about suicide, she can't just off herself. "Why won't God let me die," she has often lamented. Maybe God is just a serious asshole.

This whole situation makes one thought surface in my skull. I do not fear death. I fear getting old. I don't mean turning 40 (though I do not relish that inevitability) I mean outliving your life, your body and mind failing, and watching everything you know and love change and disappear. Think about it, every person you ever made laugh, every person you ever fucked, every bastard you ever met on myspace, your mom and dad, brothers and sisters, all the people you remember, no longer exist, and you will never make new memories with these people. No one even knows what a Playstation 5 is, and all your favorite actors and bands are dust. No one wants to hear about life bfore cybornetic limbs and computer chip brain implants. You have nothing to look forward to and the past only brings pain. Existance is a painful limbo were all potential is lost, and thanks to the Republicans, you have to work at Wal-Mart just to have enough cash to stay drunk.

Hopefully, I'll get hit by a bus or a falling meteorite soon. That way my funeral will be full of grieving people, lamenting my untimely demise. You don't wanna be the last one to go with no one left to carry your coffin.

end transmission.