|are there any spirits listening|
|yes are you alone|
|haha nice whats up :P|
|trying to contact my dead grandmother|
|cool cool so what would u be doing if i was alive right now lol|
I really fucked my shoulder up. This is my first real physical injury, and the thought of having to go to a doctor terrifies me. I just hope it doesn’t hamper my climbing ability permanently, because right now i cant ever lift my arm about my head. Grrrrrrrrrrrfuckfuckfuck
Some day I will die and everything i ever gathered in my head organ will fade with my last breathe. All the faces that I’ve memorized, the sound waves and other stimulus my particular set of chemicals enjoys will vanish with all my other bodily functions. The only things that I do, that will ever have meaning, will only have meaning to others with head organs, and lung sacs, and blood pumpers, like mine . Then, someday, their nervous system will short out just like mine did. Their lung sacs will stop filling with oxygen, and their blood pumped will stop circulating sanguine life juice, just like mine. The cycle repeats, over, and over. Over and over. Over and, fucking, over. Till the last of the brain organs fail. Then we will be nothing but food for our cousins, wooden sky touchers. Till one day, those with bigger head organs, or at least different, will find out frail and brittle bones. They will make assumptions and theory and fact. But they will never know, no one will ever know what went on your particular head.