Requiem [COMPLETED]

Nihilism is Delightful?

One night I sat down next to Sven reading on the couch. He put down his book; he knew it was something important if I ventured to touch the moldering beast of 70's gauche. He looked at me expectantly.

"I want to go to college. I want to take the GED test and the ACT and apply to the state universities here."

To my surprise, he responded thoughtfully, "Well, you're not 18 yet, so either you have to take the tests as Birgit and lie about your identity the rest of your life, or you have to hope they've forgotten about you and stopped looking, or you just have to wait until the first test date after your birthday. I was looking into applying too; it seems like we'd be applicable for some grants, in addition to loans."

"You agree with me?"

"It's something that will better your mind and enable you to get a way better job; of course I support sensible ideas. In this day and age you can't just get an MRS and anyhow you're too smart for that." He seemed affronted. "When have I ever told you that you had a bad idea just for the sake of shooting you down?"

I paused. "I dunno."

"Well, don't go acting like I'm grandpa," he grumbled, crossing his arms. "Now what do you want to study?"

"I think geology or archaeology," I ventured.

"Okay, what are you gonna do with that degree? Can you work with just that, or will you need a graduate degree too?"

I was ready for the barrage of questions. "Private contracting, mostly, or some state work. The website said I'd need to get at least a master's for a lot of jobs."

"Okay; so go work out a plan for it." He picked up his book again.

I was a bit nonplused by the turn of events. I'd been all mentally geared for a long bitter argument. "O-okay... Sven?"

"What?" he was still grumpy with me.

"I don't think you're like grandpa." He softened a bit.

"I know," he replied, pretending to not care.

"Sven, what do you want to study?"

After a hesitation he said, "Psychology."

"Why that?"

His reply was serious. "So I can understand why everyone's so irrational, and why some people are so especially messed up."

"Does the reasoning matter really?"

He frowned at me. "I just need there to be a reason...right now I don't see any reason for all the awful shit people do."

*****

The trio were draped across the couch and the living room carpet when I woke from a mid-day nap. I opened the bedroom door and heard them talking around the corner.

"Sleeping is fucking amazing, it's like getting a free trial of being dead every night."

"That's fucked up John."

"See, I told you we can't talk like this around Seamus or your sister; they just don't understand casual existential despair."

"I just don't find it funny like you guys do. Anyhow, sleep isn't like death. When you're dead you're—like—well do you think your brain or consciousness or whatever keeps on dreaming and shit?"

Sven grunted. "If so I want a fucking refund. My death is just gonna be bad memories played on a loop."

"Maybe death is nothing but dreams. Maybe your brain dies and doesn't even realize it; it just slips quietly away and the last thing it knows is dreaming as it goes into a kind of sleep before dying."