Driving past what seemed like 100 acres of cemetary, you can't help but to feel a bit morose. Aisle after endless aisle of tombstones that time has forgotten. I couldn't help but think that this is all that we will become. Maybe for a generations our children will visit our own gravesites once a year for mother's/father's day. Our grandchildren out of morbid curiosity will want to see the site of the person who gave them their strange genetic mutation. Then after 50 years, no one will visit your site, except some crazy teenagers who want to scare their dates enough so that they can score with them later on.
Anyway, have a nice day!
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