i will die on my 40th birthday

a man was knocked down and killed on the road across from my house last week. i walked past the spot today and saw the dark streaks that was his blood, flowing down the slant in the road.

i thought how little his death meant to everyone. i think when a person dies, only about 50 people are affected, and maybe only half of them are REALLY affected by the death. the rest of them just think, "oh, he died. i'm sad. boo." and then go on with their lives like nothing's changed.

in the grand scheme of things, we are really not even worth a shit. 50 years later no one will even remember that you once existed. i find this to be rather depressing for a large variety of reasons which i shall not articulate.

my mother told me that my grandmother's sister (grandaunt?) is suffering from cancer and her medicine costs like $400 every 2 weeks or something. she said she's gonna sell her house to pay for the medical costs once her savings run out.

i couldn't help but wonder why does she bother staying alive if life's gonna be so damn sucky. she is not married and has no children, she lives alone in an apartment that is soon going to be sold, she has cancer, she is going to suffer a lot even if she seeks treatment.

maybe i'm just being extremely cynical, but she seems to be in a tunnel, except there's no bright light shining at the end of it. it's just a long and dark tunnel that would only end at her death. even if she recovers from her illness, what else is there for her?

shit, i almost sound as though i want her to die, which is very untrue. i'm just curious about humans.