'There's nothing worse than nothing. But if it's nothing, I won't it because I will be nothing.'
'But what about not existing,' I ask. 'The whole world will go on without you. Like you were never here. And then someday everyone who knows you will be dead, too, and then it will be like you never ever existed. Doesn't that make you sad?'
Everything from that second on will never mean anything to me ever again. But not just everything after I die, but everything before I die, too. When I die, everything dies.
It all feels like such a waste.