My eyes feel like gummed up dust in their sockets. They’ve seen so many things. So much time. All this suffering. A man can only stand watching his life once. Then he dies, right?

Not me. I will keep living and living and living; collecting dust like a novelty in the back of your closet that has overstayed its welcome. It is horrible. To live this much. There is the eating and the crapping and the sleep. Things you can play with, but soon they get boring. Then the people. Loving and defeating. After a few thousand years, they are just as dull as my turds. People wish to live into infinity, like a god. I wish for all of you. That you will never be periled by the curse of infinite life. Because it is something no god can save you from.