which at first seemed like a scary thought, but then i went, oh well. i’ll already be dead, so it doesn’t matter

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even the other day on my walk i was thinking about like, getting cancer and stuff, and i just felt at this point i’m in such a nothingburger part of my life that while it would suck that i didn’t do much of what i wanted to do here, it wouldn’t really make a difference anyway. i’d just die and be dead and it’d be whatever

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it might be freeing even, cause i could just say whatever i wanted and not have to deal with the consequences long-term. the invincibility of the death bed.

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so on one hand it’s nice that i seem to be somewhat over whatever existential dread i had about what happens after we die but on the other hand i think being this nonchalant about dying this young is probably a red flag

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