There is a life before us, and a life after us.

I just realized that before me, before I was born, there was this… whole world. This whole existence. My mother and father, they went through decades of life and experience before I ever entered this universe. My father was almost 39, my mother, 34. That’s nearly half a life lived before I ever had my first breath. And now, I have a nephew, and it’s like, life is imitating itself again. I was once an infant, getting all the attention. And now that’s long past me and I’m an adult. Now, it’s his turn to get favoritism, and affection, and getting his driver’s license, and feeling a girl up for the first time, and college parties. Wow, his life is going to be amazing! And one day I’ll grow real old. And one day, so will he. And we’ll become our grandparents. Relics. Memories. And one day, we won’t even be memories. We’ll just be that old black and white photo in the attic no one ever looks at.  Damn it. When I put it that way, it just makes you want to kill yourself, doesn’t it?

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