Hello!

Nice to meet you!

I’m a statistic! (Previously a human being!)

But when you die you become a statistic so here we are.

I had a job before I was a statistic. A weight problem. Self-esteem issues.

I had a name.

Maybe it was Steve or Jennifer or Susie spelled cool like Siouxsie. A Jean-Pierre even.

Maybe I had a nice thick mane of hair for my age. Something tantamount to hopes and dreams. A habit that was bad for me.

Maybe I’d taught myself to play “Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You” on guitar.

Maybe I’d recently read how Santa’s reindeers have to be female because only female reindeer keep their antlers in the winter.

Maybe I’d finally learned the secret to keeping a towel from falling down after I got out of the shower.

How do you burn all that down to a number?

Think about this: I’ve waited 4.5 billion years just to become a statistic?! Can you believe that shit?

Forget it.

Fact: You know who doesn’t care about stats? The universe.

Another fact: you can’t be a statistic before you’re whisked into creation but you are one forever afterward. Or until the coming cosmological slaughter that is heat death or whatever.

But also, when you’re a statistic, you can do anything you want.

No one cares. Trust me. I know.

You can subtract yourself and no one will ever know because when numbers are large enough know one pays attention to the 1s and 2s and then the 10s and 20s and 100s and so on until all numbers have become meaningless.

You can subtract yourself and no one will ever know—wait. I already said that.

Honestly, it’s kind of funny. And ironic. When you think about it. How any tears being cried by anyone who mourns someone that becomes a statistic are indeed only tears of future statistics even though they act like this could never be true? Bless their little farts. (Hearts?)

You can subtract yourself and no one will ever know—wait. I already said that.                     Didn’t I?

  1. I. I. i.

Ssssadly: becoming forgotten as even you are statistic twice.

Sorry. What I meant was: becoming statistic means you forgotten twice.

Self. Forgotten too.

Quickly it can quickly happen quickly.

Even now. Always.

It is.

Happening. Wappening. Crappening.

Weaving. Grieving. Cleaving.

Through space. Through time. Through things. Through.

Think I remember.

Nah. I forget.

Remember how.

I remembered?

Should remember.

My name mynameknowmyname.

Before I become statistic think someone say please don’t go, Curt? Gert?

                  Like prayer: pleasedon’tgopleasedon’tpleasedon’tpleasedon’tgoCurt

                  Curt?

That?

My?

Name?

Gert?

Not great those names.

What parents think??

Statistic no parents have, ssssilly.

But hello!

Ice to meet you.

Oh.

Wait.

That answer to joke daughter told.

Time long ago.

Jokey joke.

Lispy thing. SO CYUTE!!!

If remember.

Went like?: What did snowman say. To other snowman?

HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!

 

Annnnyway anyway.

Hello!

Meeting nice. You.

I statistic.

Now.

I human.

Used to be.

Was.

Now.

Not counted.

No more.