I've been thinking a lot about death, even though that's several decades away, but several decades is still an infinitesimal amount of time compared to the time I'll be non-existent. I'm starting to envy suicidal people (unless they all actually want to live a good life, and only want death because such a life seems out of reach), everything now seems like an illusory distraction from eternal oblivion, and I'm starting to be self-conscious about how time keeps flowing forward and pulls me closer and closer to death. Sometimes, I don't even feel like anything more than a bunch of simple machines talking to each other, and the bunch is just programmed to want to exist and continue talking to each other. Maybe I can deprogram them with drugs when the time seems near, but I'd still like to somehow deprogram them while sober, and as soon as possible, because, you never know...
Thinking like this may be scary, but it's freeing in a way to know that nothing you do will matter by the time you die. I've stopped stressing over grades and how mediocre I am, because I now see how much time doing that would waste, and I finally get the gratefulness thing that all the hippies are talking about! when thinking about eventually being forced into eternal oblivion, even little things seem like wonderful experiences that should be treasured (while I can still treasure things) because they're actually very strange and exotic compared to the oblivion.
Anyway, enough about me. Let's see what you can do: shove your religious/spiritual/pseudoscience/get professional help shitstones up your urethra, if you're even thinking of "helping" me. I'm sorry, if I used milder language, I would be making a huge understatement about how tired I am of hearing those things.
TL;DR: I'm writing a stupid novel to help me deal with my own death and fear of the unknown, but it will mostly be me indulging in my fantasy of living forever. It will be very long and will take years, or even decades to complete.
