I’m only worried about two things in life, the heat death of the universe and bears with guns (how did they get them and how can they use them) and I’m terrified that I will get to live to see both of them. Granted the ursine evolution process is going to take a long time to develop opposable thumbs and we are looking at a long time until the end of it all.
I mean a really, really long time.
Being immortal will eventually mean facing up to realisation that not just you will just outlive your friends and family but eventually the universe itself.
I used to think that I wanted to live forever, being alive is pretty amazing so why would I want to change the status quo. Sure there is the chance that there is a big adventure to come (with white shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise) but I know at the moment I can have bacon sandwiches, tea, and watch cricket.
Being around to see those you love get old and leave, how would that be fun. Maybe you can learn to live again, and again, but would that devalue the feelings you have held for people in the past. Now I have a little child there will be a moment when I have to explain to her mortality, that is a thought that breaks my heart.
It’s not exactly something I have yet come to grasp, I still see that I have so long ahead of me so how can I comprehend my own lack of immortality? Every time I think about it I get the same sense of dread as Winnie the Pooh with a semi-automatic. I’m already afraid of the heat death of the universe, I don’t want to add my own to the fear list.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Finite Creatures.”
At what age did you realize you were not immortal? How did you react to that discovery?