It just goes to show, as much as we say fuck boomers (and rightfully so) each generation has their own eldritch horror they face alone.
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in the instant before nuclear sublimation, man may face that which will consume him. horrible as it may be, it is a moment of naked equality
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to be denied the absolution of this final audience with one's fate is its own horror. to be lonely and unacknowledged at the end.
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I imagine this is how Keats felt when he died.
End of conversation
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