You know what I will like to do?
To run around, telling everyone to relax, snap out of it and that nobody is going to die.
I want to throw one thousand cliches at them because every single one of them is true. It will be an exercise in brutal honesty. Telling people what they already know may be the most gratifying and frustrating thing in the world.
Then again, now that I think about it, everyone is going to die. But that is kind of the same point, you know?
As in Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Or Nietzsche’s Eternal Recurrence.
Exactly like that. If you know what I mean.