The last of four launch day cartoons for "Super Tuesday".
In "The Story of Life" the line forms from "the top". I hope nobody at the back of our wealth-care line is counting on a happy ending. Yaaasspleen?
Are Mitch and the Republican Senators all tucked-in for their Easter naps in their Baby Boomer cribs? Your "greatest generation" fathers are ashamed. Not much of a "leader" are you?
TBH, this pretty much reflects my entire attitude at the moment towards the world, life and all other humans.
A recent lying awake thought. Better to die peacefully in your sleep - but get cheated out of the final experience? Or die in absolute conscious agony - and get your money's worth on the way out?
The second time I met death I was 3-1/2 years old. I ate handfuls of tasty needles off the Christmas tree. I stopped breathing for about 5 minutes. Apparently it took a few decades for the brain damage to reveal itself.
Out of time for these. The 4th, age 6: end of recess. The 5th, age 8: restraint broke on carnival ride. The only accomplishments I have to show for my life? Almost dying and causing misery.
It is only the 15th. Of January. Every corner of the sky is filled with storm clouds. And morning glow is long past due. It's no longer a matter IF I can make it to February. Honestly, it's why would I want to?
I have been playing with house money since I was 3 years old. You gain a certain perspective on life - when you and Death are on a first name basis.
Hmmm. This is a square peg, round hole solution. The original version of this was a little too disturbing for today's sensibilities. One side benefit is the salt should make the humor drier. And, uh, saltier.
These posts are dominos. Some concept tumbles forward into the next. But this is what happens when my brain freezes. And is "treading water". Wondering. About WHY. Was it a question. Thoughts? Complex. Answers? I have.
A soulless corpse? Birthed imploding black hole. / Looks not for love, Cares not for touch, Needs not for warmth. Thinks not for then, Hopes not for now, Dreams not for when. / A soulless corpse? Lives apathy ever after.
(b) As I complete my mid-year review, I wonder what made me “interesting”. My stupidity? My dysfunction? Or just my dark, evil soul? Maybe someday, someone will inform me. But until never? Sunrises. Sunsets. Death.
As horribly depressing as the world currently is, I can't help but feel like we are living in some crappy no-budget made-for-public-access parody of a real apocalypse. And not something that will achieve some weird cult status either.
Fall is my favorite season. And Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. But, favorites - and nostalgia - require the "good" memories to outnumber the "bad" ones. And I quit keeping score.
Time. And the calendar. Have conspired against me. The conclusion to this comes Monday. But. First we must trudge through the most sacred of high holy holidays. The irony? Symbolism? Allegory? Well ... something.
Yeah. I'm honestly not sure who's talking to whom here. History provides the intimate thoughts of those on the edge. Anne Frank. Robert Falcon Scott. Marie Curie. Emilie Davis. Friedrich Kellner. Who will speak ... for us?
Yeah, 2022 ain't off to a great start. But it's not a sprint. Or a marathon. It's a mined obstacle course. Note. Yesterday's lesson was about America. And democracy. So. I think it's time some unfollow me. I'll do the same.
Yeah. The world is a dumpster fire. And. I am fortunate to be where I am. When I am. But. Still. We are each entitled to moments - as sentient beings - to ask … WTF am I here?
What is “living”? Perhaps. It is merely a side effect. Of imagination. Or. Lack thereof. Anyway. I might not know when. And. I may not know how. But. Provided the zombies don’t get me first. I have always known … why.