Pardon my good mood, lately. I recently remembered that I was dying.
I came home from somewhere, probably coffee, and one of my roommates asks me, "what are you so happy about?"
"Oh, I just remembered that I'm dying!"
"And that makes you happy? You're weird."
"That's okay, man. You're dying too."
"I don't want to hear it."
What happened to us? We're all stuck into one instance of inevitability, and suddenly the rest of our lives are meaningless. I'm not sure I like that idea. Death doesn't (or shouldn't) suck all the meaning from our lives. It should be the reminder that we only have a small amount of time on this earth to live, love, and be happy.