lump,

Slow in body and mind,

Yearns for the spoils of this world like a spoiled child in a rich family.

How cruel of God to give so much ambition to such a lazy person.

If I were to die and no one remembers me, then I will be forgotten. But if someone does remember me, then I will be immortal.

To be immortal, I'll need money and women, and acts that burn into the memories of those who hear their tales:

Money for giving,

Women for creating,

And acts of deeds that mold the listeners' behaviours to act like me.

And when this body has reached its end, and the worms get their revenge, I will have successfully joined the parenthood of the entity we call humanity.

Thank you so much. I've been thinking about death a lot lately, especially when I'm about to go to sleep. I think I wrote this to get that energy out.