Lately I’ve been thinking about death: it happens to all of us, it’s something normal, it will happen to me, I could even die tomorrow. Even if I don’t want it, I will die, like everyone else. I’m not exceptional just for being me. No matter how many gods I invent, no matter how many opportunistic preachers I pay because they promise to save me.

I’m just a monkey among 8 billion monkeys, I’m insignificant. Nothing wrong with that. It is what it is.

My life so far: take the path of least resistance. I have a job I don’t like much but I do it good enough so I don’t get fired, I enjoy cooking, fishing, poetry and drawing, hobbies that are cheap. I don’t need to keep up with the joneses.

There seems to be a perception that somebody like me is a loser, lazy, somebody who fails to live up to his potential, maybe I should try to do something exceptional with my finite time on earth, leave a legacy…

But that doesn’t appeal to me. After I die I won’t feel nothing, nor will I care about a legacy, so what’s the point?

Did realizing your time on earth is finite change how you see life?

Feel free to point out if this is me being depressed or if I need to snap out of my misanthropy, as somebody put it. I don’t consider myself depressed but after seeing and reading what humans do to other humans I don’t trust the better angels of our nature can make the world a better place.

On one side I enjoy solitude, walking alone, drawing, fishing and cooking. Most people bore me because I find them dull and superficial. I specially hate the talkative, needy ones who wont shut up and believe I care what they think. I dislike big groups of drunks or people that need to yell and listen to loud music to feel good.

On the other hand, I’ll die one day, possibly alone, because I don’t have the emotional bandwidth for a girlfriend, marriage or raising children, nor to go to a club or a similar social occasion where people find other humans and maybe a partner.

Suddenly, dying alone with no children feels depressing: Everything I save and don’t spend will be appropriated or sold, everything I learn, a whole life of experiences, will simply be forgotten, I know I won’t feel anything when I die, or after, and I shouldn’t care about it, but I still feel sad I’m going to die without nobody but the debt collectors noticing my death. Suggesting I marry out of desperation so I don’t die alone would be a terrible idea. So don’t. I’m too set on my ways and wouldn’t be fair to any child.

I like some human contact but feel the world offers me either loud, drunk jerks, immature idiots or the complete solitude I have now, a solitude I mostly enjoy but sometimes makes me feel alone.