The ugly monster named time is always chasing after me and it's got a face even its mother doesn't love. That's what I said last night. I'm still young, but it doesn't matter--from the moment I was born, my fate is set in stone, just like everyone else's, and like every single star in the universe. The only difference is that we're capable of visualizing this agony while literal stars do not have a nervous system to feel the same. Now, imagine we're little sailboats sailing on the endless ocean called life. And there's this eldritch, Lovecraftian monster--something resembles Cthulu, or something worse --tirelessly chasing after us, eroding everything we love away in the process. Nobody has had been able to outrun it, not for the lack of trying, but every vessel eventually breaks down. Even the ship with the shiniest finish and largest sails, eventually falls apart and gets swallowed by the monster, if not by the waves. Now, however, we're at thi...
We can't live forever, but we can at least try.