A Half-Assed Observation of Three Types of People I Saw on the Street This Morning.

Somewhere behind it all is the doom. The encroaching end. Be it decades away or just around the corner, it strolls along ever steadily and without a care in the world. 

It's funny to me what he does to people, Mr. Doom. Mr. Death. Mr. No More. Some gather together together as much as they can. Wealth, power, and things. As if in the end they'll be declared the winner. Fuck, maybe they will. I certainly can't name very many poor folk throughout human history (whose existences are proven), but I can name a few truckloads of the wealthy.

(Sidebar: It's interesting to note that I assume lasting legacy and the concept of names existing in books and on tongues forever as "winning".)

Other people see it as an opportunity to attempt to stave off death. To prime their bodies and minds. To be all of the things that fourteen billion years of universal evolution, through chaos and chance, could allow them to be. Strong. Brave. Intelligent. I admire them. I like to count myself within them. But, we still go out like bulbs on too long.

Then, there's another group. The opposite of both. The fatalists. The apathetic. The dooms-dayers and the naysayers. They feel death at every turn. They, despite their often armor-like resilience to admitting weakness, display almost a fear of trying with a reason of "why bother?" I understand them. But it's hard to agree with them.

It's hard to agree with any of the three groups really.

Get enough money to be able to live healthy and pursue a few things that you enjoy. Don't die before you're dead.