A reflection on immortality and the meaning of life.
Clocks tick, time flows, and flowers bloom and wither. Animals breathe and die. Mountains slowly grow and crumble. People are born and pass away. Everything must die eventually. But why is that so?
Many people say they are afraid of death. Why? Because no one truly knows what comes after death, and people fear the unknown. Perhaps we once knew what was and what will be, before our souls came into this world. But with our first breath of fresh oxygen, we forgot. And why? So that we could discover the meaning of existence again. Perhaps we have not understood it yet, and therefore someone gave us another chance to find the reason why we live at all.
Some succeed, others do not. In moments when our skin gains another wrinkle, our hair turns grey, and our movements become slower, we begin to long for youth and for a longer life than our body allows. To be immortal — what does it even mean? What does it involve?
In front of me lies a contract. It is written in elegant ink, decorated with gold along the edges, and all I have to do is point the elegant pen in my hand at the final golden line waiting for my signature, which will turn my life into something endless. To be forever young and beautiful. Youth and beauty are power. Who does not desire power? I would be immortal, I would not have to fear that I would not manage to do everything in life. I would witness centuries of different eras, and in a few years I might read in history books about events I personally took part in. And yet it would feel like yesterday, not a hundred years ago. For the immortal, time stops, yet centuries feel like months.
But what about the disadvantages? Has anyone thought about them? What about other people? I would meet many of them. But their time would not stop for them — they would continue to age and eventually die. Yes, I would meet others, but would new acquaintances replace the old ones? Would they erase the pain of losing my friends, which I might feel? What if I fall in love? What if I fall so desperately in love that I suddenly wish to die with him? Would I be able to watch his aging face until the difference between us becomes so great that my lover would look more like my grandfather? Would he even be able to bear the sight of my unchanging face? And what if we had children? They too would grow old and die, and their children after them, and generations after generations until…
Until I am completely alone. Until I finally understand the beauty of a short yet long life. The awareness that a person must one day leave gives them the ability to experience every moment as if it were the last, making it precious. The ability to draw from one’s mind and body everything one can, so that in old age one can look back at the picture of their past and smile contentedly. The ability to fulfill dreams and live in such a way that when death approaches their deathbed, they smile at it and step into its arms as if entering a gateway to another adventure.
Death is not a nightmare. Death is a new life. And the dream of human immortality is merely an illusion of power. Immortality is an eternal curse. Life is a gift. That is why I throw the contract into the fire and write on my hand in large letters with that elegant pen: "LIVE!"