I woke up this morning, drank three expressos, and spent more than two hours planning my 401k contributions for the next 40 years.

Like I have a single clue what my life will be like at age 64 (if I’m still alive). 

Life seems so sure until it crumbles. 

Until the doctor schedule a few extra tests that could mean you’ll be dead within a month. 

You don’t realize how scarce life is until you face the end (or someone else’s). No amount of money can buy more time (that I know of). 

Life is strange and beautiful; we often take sunrises and pets for granted, forgetting the impending death of all humans and the universe. 

We shove away humanity’s most profound questions because we fear the answer (or lack thereof). 

These plague me at night. That’s why I write. 

We say we’re bored as we die. We numb our fears and failures with alcohol and drugs. We spend our most critical years away from our favorite people. 

We envy the possessions of others while blind to their problems (not usually pictured on IG). 

We sacrifice time and money to pursue prestigious careers that we hate but endure for the company credit card and other lame benefits. 

We don’t ponder death, relationships, or significant others. We sweep it under the rug until the next relative or pet croaks. 

Everything will die except legacy and ideas. Changed laws, regulations, and minds thrive far past the death of those who designed them. 

That’s why I care about loosening arbitrary government regulations. 

Because laws that restrict small businesses hurt people, not just a building. 

Throwing people into prison for nonviolent offenses drains taxpayer money and shatters families.  

What happens after death? For what do you want the world to remember you?

I may have enough money to retire ( FU money, not actually retiring), without Social Security, which will fail within five years. 

Or the Federal Reserve could inflate the money supply, again, and wreck the economy.

The hardest part about death is that regrets will be the last thoughts running through that mind, forever wondering if you wasted your life chasing meaningless goals. 

However, by the time you’re wheezing for air, there’s little you can do. 

As far as we know, humans are the only cognitive species in the universe. Death is the normal state of being; but until then, enjoy every second of life.