Maybe I can ease the existential horror a little bit by providing this bit of a 2005 interview - it seems it’s not that terrible of a fate. More melancholy than outright horror:
You’re the first human beings I’ve seen, the three of you. Two men and one lady. The first … people I’ve seen since I’ve been ill. No difference between day and night. No thoughts at all. No dreams. Day and night, the same – blank. Precisely like death.
Is it very hard?
No. It’s exactly the same as being dead, which is not difficult, is it? To be dead is easy. You don’t do anything at all. You can’t do anything, when you are dead. It’s been the same. Exactly.
Do you miss your old life?
Yes. But I’ve never been conscious to think that. So I’ve never been bored or upset. I’ve never been anything at all, it’s exactly the same as death. No dreams even. Day and night, the same.
When you miss your old life, you say, ‘Yes, I miss my old life’, what do you miss?
The fact that I was a musician. And in love.







I mean, yeah? Is it controversial to think that owls are kitties?