I sometimes wish spell-checkers would keep a running total of spelling and grammar errors made, so I could beam proudly or punish myself accordingly at the end of a document.
Nothingness is terrifying. I have occasional flashes of the finality of death (often accompanying washing the dishes). It crushes you. But when it inevitably comes, we won’t know, right? A thing can’t perceive the absence of itself, so why worry?
Enjoy this moment, be kind, and create a future for those to come who will not know you by your absence but by the presence you left behind. Heaven is only the happiness of those yet to be born, if their happiness is in any way due to you. I think the meaning of life is the future.
The double espresso I had is giving me that vague pulsing of the sinuses that might be more familiar if I ingested a wider variety of stimulant substances. As it is, I’m feeling a little queasy and just suddenly smelled paint. Maybe I’m now a superhero of the senses? Smellman. Odoro. The Sniffer. No, it’s just a cleaner who sprayed some detergent onto a nearby table. I didn’t even identify the smell correctly. No superhero I.
Maybe the chemicals in the Diet Irn Bru can activate something? Nope. Unless my superpower is a slightly elevated need to urinate.