In a way it looks sad. Alone. Dented. Beaten. It was not made to be this way, at least not in it’s life. This is it’s demise. The end of it’s life. It has fulfilled it’s first purpose, and must now fulfill the next. Destruction, and recreation.
Our lives aren’t like this. Well as far as we know. We just die. We don’t come back. Consciousness just stops. We stop. We don’t get to be recreated. So, in a way, I envy the can.
Of course it is just a can. But of course again, I am just a human. We’re both the same really.
I Review Everything 