Phylogeny and the study of human persistence

Today is the first day of the rest of your life. That is true for every day, except for the day you die. Under the bumper of a 1997 Eclipse, my body lies shattered and broken. Ligaments are torn away like the rotting mucous membrane of a decaying jellyfish. The phylum Cnideria always reflected some aspect of human atrophy. The mutilated vessel flies into the air and slides across the pavement. A concrete luge with no protection and no brakes, perfect circumstances for a friday afternoon. My life, a riddle on the tip of my amigo's tongue. It dances in and out of our heads as if one souless being had managed to get through to another. (Minus divine intervention, our meeting was exceptional) Here it is, the final resting place. The skin across my face burns raw and red from the searing friction. Black pavement lies dormant against the pulsing agony of a full sun. This ball of thermodynamic chaos is penetrating my already battered flesh. I am roasting on Gods barbeque. Sizzle the fat and let it drip off into a bucket of human waste. If McDonalds could only utilize my toasted burning skin, none of "us" would go hungry. They find what was left of me here, and there, and everywhere. They see my friend, crushed and bitter. The rest of his existence, centered and overcome by this one epic story. His mind was capable of percieving the events of this friday afternoon, but his legs were not up to the challenge. One by the tree and one under the Eclipse, this was the first day of the rest of his life.