Tonight my brain is tired and empty. Paul McCartney apparently died in 1966 and was replaced by an imposter. That's okay I guess. John died in 1980 and proved himself absolutely irreplaceable. No surprise there. George Harrison died in 2002 and nobody noticed, and Ringo is trying desperately to convince the world that he's not dead yet. Maybe it is better to burn out than to fade away. James Dean died young and left a beautiful corpse...of course it was mangled beyond compare and buried away anyway. A boy I know wears his dead grandfather around his neck. I carry my dead grandfather in my brain, and a good friend of mine carries her dead brother in her heart. The egyptians mummified, the Romans crucified. There is no such thing as immortality. Even in memory we are lost. All the stories are untrue. We leave edited ghosts, and even the ghosts soon become more fiction that fact. Universal reflections. Images in a mirror. Light bounced around the campfire, reflected off the faces of strangers and lost in a second. We are dead before we wake. It's everybody's tragic ending. Why fear it. The inevitable is only frightening when it's anticipated. Some have courage, some have strength, some have hope. Some are bored. I'm not bored. Tonight, my brain is tired and empty.