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I remember being younger and reading about a photo exhibit about people before and after their deaths, and things just kind of terrifyingly clicking for me that like sands through the hourglass, so are the, uh, something of our lives. And while I don't think that being relentlessly haunted by a terrifying hyper-awareness of the looming horror of mortality is essential to being fulfilled in your daily life, there are way too many people writing about nothing, and way too many people not being inspired by it.

So by contrast, let me posit the following metaphor. You're in a movie theater. You've got your seat and snacks and everything (which is more than a lot of people get, incidentally). The curtain has gone up and the show has started. You're sitting there enjoying the show, and it's only been like half an hour and it feels like there's just tons of movie left. But at the same time, you know it's going to end eventually. That is you, now. The curtain went up a while ago and the previews ended and we're well into Act 1, and you're still just sitting there eating snacks, even though the clock is ticking and this is not a double feature (unless you're a Buddhist, I guess).

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That's you, and all of us. We're all in here together, and it seems like it's gonna last forever, but it fucking isn't. You look to your left and some people are scribbling stories and journaling furiously on pads of paper before the movie ends. You look to your right and people are screwing like mad so their kids can take over their seats. You look at the back of the seat in front of you, and whoever was sitting here before you has etched something about how he wasn't happy until he realized he had to make some kind of lasting mark while he still had time.