By taking either a microcosmic or macrocosmic view of mankind relative to the universe
Everything about life becomes irrelevant
The concept of infinity dwarfs all other notions conceived in the minds of men
Superseding all trivial concerns of life are those of death
Everything will spend eternity in the state of being dead
Therefore life becomes nothing more than a prerequisite to being dead

Time is an evil illusion
The inevitable heat death of the universe will happen in the next moment
There was once a genius, 170 IQ, fourteen years old, killed himself one night without a note or a hint of depression
He was a wise and rational man

I saw a woman on a train scribbling in a journal
She’d probably been doing it for years
Filled volumes with her scribbling
Scribbling nothing to make a bigger pile of nothing
All of these pseudo-minded fools write about Love
And the procreative urge that runs through the universe like the keel of a ship
And I think about the women I’ve loved
And all the reasons why love is not enough
And I miss my wife

I wish I could find her
I wish she were here
I wish she was with me
Then I could lose myself in the maddness of loving her
And be free of the tyranny of time, reason, and infinity
Then in maadness of Love, I could finally live
Instead of just wait to die

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