This was meant to be an easy all-nighter. It seems like with every one I take I lose little part of the ability. Maybe I'll never have one as easy as this again... I'll definitely never have one as easy as I did six months ago.
Is this ageing?
Is the slow death coming for me already?
How many all-nighters do I have left?
Because we don't know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. But everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more, perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.
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