When I was young, I used to think it was sad that all those young men died in war before realizing their full potential.
Now that I'm older, and starting to lose my hearing, my eyesight, my balance, my endurance, my strength, my ability to pee, my ability to go for a few hours without peeing, I think about those dead soldiers, cut down in the flower of their youth, and I envy them.
I envy the dead, because they didn't live long enough to witness this ClownWorld.
Me mam (73) fell in the bathroom yesterday, and broke her hip. She has been a virtual cripple for a year now, because she broke her OTHER hip then. My poor dad (77) has to deal with this shit, plus her advancing schizophrenia/dementia. Tis truly better to die young. At 55 I am wondering why the hell I am still around. No wife, no kids, just a cat that regularly shits in my shoes.
(post is archived)