I hate people, don't you?

Don't you? Them and their faces, and the noises they're always making. They even make noise when they walk, fabric on fabric or skin on skin, like they're applauding themselves with every step, and they don't have that much to be proud of if you ask me.

They leave their appendages flapping around all over the place; they don't even look where they're going, and that's how we end up with accidents and disease, all over the world.

No matter where you look, there they are. Even when you close your eyes and dream, they're bound to show up sooner or later, with a hand growing out of their fused heads or giving you a math test when you're naked. That's just how they operate. They confuse and humiliate you. Don't you find that to be true? I do.

And they never shut up! Complain and die, that's all they do, complain and die. If they're aren't doing one, they do the other.

And now they want to run away to space, leaving a big mess behind just to create another mess, or so I think. I do think that, because they've proven they can't be trusted. In space they'll be more meaningless matter twirling aimlessly around, just like on the highway on the way to work.

There couldn't possibly be an afterlife. People are too stupid to put together something like that, don't you think? It sounds complicated, what with the dimensional shift and the rearrangement of matter. Lots of paperwork.

But if there is an afterlife, I bet you dollars to donuts it'll be just like here, but forever. And in reverse -- die and complain, that's all they'll do, forever and ever.

I want no part of it, no, sir. My plan is to never end.