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Old 08.02.2011, 03:41 AM   #43
Genteel Death
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Join Date: Aug 2009
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Genteel Death kicks all y'all's assesGenteel Death kicks all y'all's assesGenteel Death kicks all y'all's assesGenteel Death kicks all y'all's assesGenteel Death kicks all y'all's assesGenteel Death kicks all y'all's assesGenteel Death kicks all y'all's assesGenteel Death kicks all y'all's assesGenteel Death kicks all y'all's assesGenteel Death kicks all y'all's assesGenteel Death kicks all y'all's asses
Quote:
Originally Posted by kinnikpasswordforgetter
is this the legacy you want to leave to the world geniteele? when they scrape your putrid remains from your bed, when the biohazard teams scoop the liquifying gloop into their sterilized sacks, will there be nothing you have accomplished? noone to remember you, no great statements or artworks or contributions to the world? not even any loved ones to speak fondly of your compassionate grace?

not even a notable occupation to put on your obituary? (if you were to have one that is, which you won't). just another life come to nothing. a forgotten non player in histories long march. someone who came, took, gave nothing in return, and had nothing to say about it. will the earth itself recieve you with any great applause? will it say, there was a man who roared upon me, irrepressible, plunging down into the sheer fathoms of mystery and wonder of his consciousness and of my myriad magnificiences? no. it won't. you will just rot, having taken the route of least resistance. having ended up so pointless and immaterial to any great cause or effort, as to become an aching mechanistic burden upon yourself to even maintain. there will be no great fear or joy or madness or intensity in your demise. it will just be the empty shuffling off of someone too lazy and morose to even summon the muster to quiver at the aeons of nothingness that await it. someone whose mind maybe once stood in awe at the majesty of the world, but soon settled into a turgid appreciation of its own bowel movements. of someone whose mediocrity was so total, so glaringly everpresent, it could only render him into a dumb silence. a silence in which his withering brain settled, until it had wasted and declined into the mere automaton motor of a pork scratching feulled slug. and this, your epitaph... was it always going to end up this way?
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