It really is too late to turn back now with the edgy stuff I'm pulling out of my ass here, isn't it? Sometimes I'll look back on the stuff I've written here and think 'Am I really like that? Jebus.' before shoving the notion to the nether regions of my mind. If I think about it like 'This is all one big experiment. Any time I limit possibilities I breed creativity but I also risk throwing myself in a corner one day.' I guess it's not TOO bad.

Is that really a gimmick or is that more like a cope? Jeez, this is starting to make my head hurt about as much as the last time I thought deeply about The Egg by Andy Weir. How would anyone know if they were the last human being to need to live out before the egg would hatch? According to the short story the order is nonlinear so one wouldn't necessarily need to be the last human to ever live. Once I pass on from this padded white expanse I call an existence I might get to figure that out. It's probably not the safest of bets but if I were an all-powerful writer of a story it'd almost be a guarantee if I wrote it to be and that story somehow went on to lead a second life, wouldn't it? Now that I think about it there's a lot of mental gymnastics involved in that. Whatever it's kinda cool.