my brother is vegan

Their children would have been beautiful, no one would argue. And it's not because of one parent more than the other; instead both would have been equal contributors to each child's perfection. The success of their children would have been a given as well, to the extent that their children’s failure would not have passed through the minds of anyone who knew them as a possibility. But then again, nothing works out as planned.

Heartbreak is strange because we can love so many things. As people disappear from my life and become more of a dream than a past, their existence elsewhere tends not to mean as much to me. But, if I fall in love with life, what is to be done when it disappoints me, as all things we love one day do. I still have to wake up everyday next to her. I still think about her all the time, because she’s right there with me. She’s everywhere I look. I can only hope I don’t dream because she even permeates those. If I could just be certain that death was an eternal dreamless sleep, then I’d know there’s hope. But for all I know death isn’t like that at all. The concept of an afterlife makes me frantic for a way out like someone suffocating on oxygen.

Power, money, and babies are often enough motivation for people. If they aren't then life seems to become a complicated quest for meaning or purpose, one that probably won’t ever be resolved. This is the nomadic result of the absence of belonging. I’m thinking helping people somehow would fix this emptiness, but the truth is I don’t give a fuck about other people and saving all the babies in the world would only cause more elderly to starve. I can’t understand everything I want to and I don’t often like who I am. This world is unacceptable and if it weren’t for the fact that suicide takes a great deal of motivation, I would have killed myself already. I know there’s meat in this. No, my brother is vegan. I’m nothing.