Hard-boiled and fierce.
The most prejudiced and wrongful thing about the living duration is the way it concludes. It's not stopping and not finishing. The only grasp of accomplishment we get when it's all over is death. The great demise, it's the commission and bonus. It's the special compensation.
In all conscience, The life cycle is entirely backwards. We should relinquish first, far-fling it into the backwoods. Mature into dust bags and colonize in assisted living communities. Get the boot for being too healthy, and go muster a pension. From here, it all gets recognizable. We onset some random job that we have an extreme dislike for, maybe stress the grind for thirty years until we're bloomed enough to retire. Drink recklessly, party our immaturity , than load our bookbags for school. Go to college. High school. Junior high. Grade school. Preschool. Become a kid. We'll play video games, we'll collect action figures and adorable little dolls. We'll have no responsibilities and our parents will look upon us as holy terrors. We'll go back, way back. Spend our final nine months floating with high living and bliss. Like a whirlpool and a mineral spring resort. Central heating. Room service on tap. Finally, we'll finish it all off as a fucking wet culmination.
Hallelujah.