The world is a scary place.
I think about death a lot.
I think about people.
I think about what they will feel like when they die.
I think about how they might die.
I was walking home with my friend tonight and something hit me.
Harder than it has ever hit me before.
Everything i saw.
Should not be.
I was talking about how pointless our existence is.
How we are just dust.
We are born, not our choice.
We then die, not our choice.
When we die, there is not heaven, nor is there a hell, there is just nothingness.
You become the very thing your mother or father told you to take off the TV when you cleaned up the house.
Think of your TV right now.
When was the last time you dusted it?
Think of how many dead people are on your TV right now.
They are all dust.
Every single person that has ever died, ever, had a story.
They all wanted to be something.
They all wanted to impress someone.
Find a love interest.
These people that have died wasted the time they had doing pointless things that don't matter to anyone that is alive today.
People at my school died. People are upset for a bit.
Now all they have is a piece of wood with their names carved in it, and when this generation of kids is gone and all the new grade 9 kids come in. They wont know anything about them. Their names on the wall will go unnoticed, untouched, forgotten.
Family members can think about you, remember you.
So can friends.
But what happens when they all die?
You become dust.
You walk past a house and on the tree on the front lawn, there is a swing.
You think about all the people that have had fun on that swing.
How long it will stay there.
The people living in that house, when will they die?
Will the next people to move in, keep it or take it down?
either way, no one remembers who put it there.
because they are just dust.