Like There’s No Tomorrow
There’s a beautiful sentiment among most living people that we should try to leave our children behind a better world than the one we inherited. But I don’t know. The way I see it, we had to the deal with the world we got–so should they. Why do I have to work for a world I’m not even going to get to enjoy?
I say we only get this world for a short time; we need to use it to the utmost. We don’t want to never wake up and realize there was a whole resource we never tapped. We don’t want to be wasting away in the ground wishing there was some sort of essential wealth we didn’t take advantage of. We don’t want to spend eternity regretting some environment we didn’t destroy. We got to get ours on this globe while the getting is good.
We have so little time to suck this planet dry we shouldn’t even bother exhaling. We just need to keep drinking, and swallowing, and devouring, and ingurgitating, and consuming. We don’t even have time to stop and think. They’ll be plenty of time for thinking when the worms are crawling out of our ears. Now is the time for living.
The day I think about the dead when I’m alive. Do you think anyone will think about you when you’re dead? Of course not. That’s why you have to live like there’s no tomorrow. Live life to the fullest. You can’t worry about the future, you can only control the present. Which is why now is more important than ever when it comes to making sure to drain everything out of this world you possibly can.
Plus, I don’t want my descendants growing up to be a bunch of pansies. Growing up in a wonderful world where everything is perfect, every resource plentiful, every climate comfortable, every layer complete. I want them to have to struggle a little. Learn what it’s like to live in a world with a few problems. Toughen them up a bit.
I want them to have to endure a little extra heat every day, know how to deal with a natural disaster so very often, compensate for a few million over-crowded streets, be able to handle an asteroid hurtling down here and there. I don’t want them growing fat and sitting around in some sort of utopia.
We owe it to our future generations to live large now. It’ll give them their grit. We must throw caution to the wind so that it will be blowing around in the atmosphere should our offspring require any. We must live without care so that there will be plenty of it if our progeny ever needs some extra. We must think only of ourselves so that our lineage not waste their lives having to think only about us.
How selfish can our children be? Expecting us to think about them during our little time on this earth. Yeah right. I’m looking out for numero uno, not numero dos through infinitus. I’m looking out for 1983-2056. My life-span. I’m not worried about my kinsmen of the 22nd century. Fuck ‘em, they’ll have flying cars.
How naïve are we to think that what we do during our lifetimes is going to affect theirs. We should be so lucky. They’ll have so much technology by the time they’re alive, they won’t even be able to comprehend how we existed. They won’t even be breathing pure oxygen. They’ll have some sort of scented kind that smells like childhood innocence. They’ll have that bottled up by then.
Trust me, one millennium from now no one is going to give two winks about whether or not we were using too much toilet paper. Or what we sprayed our hair with. Or that we used up all the gas. They’ll be back-flipping between planets wondering why we never got rid of all those pesky oceans. Leaving salt water lying around in puddles over 70 percent of our land. Idiots. That’s what they’ll call us.
And here we are looking out for them. How many days do you wake up and thank your ancestors for The Renaissance? When was the last time you cursed them for the Industrial Revolution? Do you still lose sleep over The Plague? No, because that was someone else’s era to entertain. All we can do is accept what we got from this world and suck as much from it while we still got our slim chance to suck. It’s not my fault if you get a lousy generation in the future. Bad timing on your part. I’m not sacrificing my present for some snot-nosed brats’. Sorry kids.
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