I wonder if I’m still allowed to indulge in teenage angst
Or if I have to call it something else, now

YOURS TRULY: I find that ‘quarter-life crisis’ has worked out quite well for a floormate of mine.

LADY RAE: Brilliant!

Plus there’s an assertion floating around that, by the age of 20, we really have lived out half our lives, from a relative point of view.
So, relatively speaking, we could keep it simple and call it midlife crisis instead.

LADY RAE: I refuse to believe I’m half-way done

Whereas I’m of the “Who wants to live forever anyway?” camp.
Also, I’ve been telling people

LADY RAE: You have?
How have they been taking it?
…sorry. Go on.

YOURS TRULY: I’ve been telling select people
that when I’m done with life, I want my remains cremated and compressed into a diamond
and then traded to a drug lord
and everyone can get as high as a kite on my dime.

LADY RAE: Oohhhh

YOURS TRULY: Personally, I think it beats having a funeral pyre
and would cement me as a hedonist for life and after death.

LADY RAE: That it would
And as the life of the party, too

YOURS TRULY: Some people save for nest eggs. Not me. If/when I do accrue the money, I’ll start compiling the guest list and thinking about the ‘reception’.
But that’s at least two decades away.
Maybe there’ll be something newfangled by then to try.

LADY RAE: Planning for death so young
You’re enough to make every dead poet from Shakespeare to now wiggle in their graves

YOURS TRULY: Hey, keep some relativity in perspective.

LADY RAE: I’m not judging!

I’m, like, forty when I go walking down memory lane.

LADY RAE: I’m just saying. Think of the corpses, N
The corpses

YOURS TRULY: The corpses are worm food. I wanna be a distributed set of donated organs and a rock on a drug lord’s finger.
Maybe I’ll donate my brain to research.
…maybe I’ll be revived as a cyborg.

If that happens, I want to be involved
Can I have your brain?
That way, when they get around to cyborg technology
and are looking for donations
I can say, “Here! Have this one!”

Hmm. I was thinking of directly approaching researchers myself.
But if you have the storage and the ice…

LADY RAE: I’ll plan ahead


I am expecting very very bad things from this endeavor

Expecting bad things is why I no longer play RPGs.

Breaking my heart


LADY RAE: You don’t rp anymore?

YOURS TRULY: Well. That too. But for different reasons.
I don’t RPG anymore because I hate dungeon crawling and fetch quests. I don’t rp anymore because I’m out of touch and haven’t been looking for a place that really fits my play style.

LADY RAE: That doesn’t sound like a permanent condition

YOURS TRULY: I simply write stories now. It’s kind of like giving up one night stands to masturbate.

LADY RAE: Exactly like that

YOURS TRULY: When I find the right bar/club/whatever, I’ll start picking up strangers again.

LADY RAE: …I’m mad at the internet for not having a complete spectrum of facial expressions
Because there just isn’t a smilie to go with the expression I’d make, saying that comment verbally

YOURS TRULY: Take a picture. Show me later.

LADY RAE: Make me