justnick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Habs in seven, baby BGM: "Monkey Man" - The Rolling Stones In a million years, you'll be dead. I will too. No one will remember we ever even existed. All the stories you love to tell and all the ones you wish you could forget, will all be gone. All the regrets, all the pains, all the accomplishments, all reduced to insignificance in the face of temporal indifference. So then, why do we do what we do? Why do we strive to better ourselves at all? Fear of wrath from on high? Inherent goodness? Or maybe we don't. Maybe all we do we just do in order to make ourselves feel like we're achieving the impossible, immortality. A striving to become eternal in some way, if only in the eyes of others. A way to convince ourselves that we are good people, who are here for a reason. All this has just served to reinforce the wisdom that working at a shoe store has already imparted. We're all just fuckin' monkeys with a superority complex. So eat, drink, be merry, and fling your poop with reckless abandon, cause we ain't here for ever. I figured I should update before the angry masses turn into a pitch-fork 'n torch weilding mob. Yes, I am indeed that influential. Go habs go. Excelsior. 6:29 p.m. - 2004-04-19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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