So, yes, death. When you’re young, you think about it… Well, you don’t really think about it, you know – you have the intelligence of raspberry jam, you don’t think about anything. But it’s there, as a motive force – making you do things. Go and get a job. Go and find a flat. Find somebody else, put them in the flat, make them stay. Get a toaster. Go to work. Get on the bus. Look at your boss. Say, “Fuck.” Sit down. Pick up the thing. Go blank. Scream internally. Go home. Listen to the radio. Look at the other person. Think, “WHY? Why did this happen!?” Go to bed. Lie awake! At night! Get up. Feel groggy. Put the things on – your clothes, whatever they’re called. Go out the door, into work – same thing! Same people, again. It’s real, it is happening to you. Go home again! Sit. Radio. Dinner – mmm. GARDENING, GARDENING, GARDENING, death.
– Dylan Moran