Happy New Year

I feel like something is amiss.  More so than usual.

I cannot explain it just yet.  However, the closest comparison would be to the old saying, of feeling like one is walking over my grave.

I do not know what it means.

Regardless, this iteration is ending in a few hours.

I had better get to work.

My family requires my mercy.

I Wonder

I shall, for once, dispense with the euphemisms, as I have a query severe enough that it should not be masked behind a less intense idea.

I wonder when I should kill my children.

This iteration's children, to be precise.  For if there is any chance for them to exist beyond life, I must kill them before they are unmade.  It will be my final act as their parent, even if I am not actually that in this iteration.

Even if there is not an afterlife, it is humane to kill them soon.  Before the fear overtakes them.  They do not understand that the stars are going out.  They will not understand when they see the emptiness come for them.  I do not want my children to die afraid.

I must stop referring to them as such, however.  They are not my children.  My children were unmade.  They no longer exist.  In some respects, they never did.