Sunday? Already?

[mad_andy]

For no apparent reason. I think it must be hormonal.

I've been mooching round the house, thinking. Can't settle to writing, read a few bits. Enjoyed what I read, still gloomy.

Thinking too deep. Thinking about purpose.

I'm beginning to get a horrible, nasty tickling little suspicion that the only true purpose is the one that glam_ang and my sister have taken - to whit, passing one's genetic material on, bringing the next generation into the world.

It is not a comfortable feeling to know that, in evolutionary terms, you're a dead end. Null. Void.

People know I exist, yeah. But were I to vanish tomorrow...

I'd be a memory. And people would get on with their lives. And that would be that.

What would I leave behind?

...

Yeah. Well. Not a fuck of a lot.

Sundays. Gloomy day.