Immortality seems like it'd be just one long, long day.
How must it feel to be the boat that waded into the deafening waters that swallowed the Titanic. An uncomfortable encroachment upon shoddy delusions of grandeur. Too late; life jackets just woefully underwhelming, doors failed duos in the cinema, while stories of economic dichotomies kept business as usual. The purchasing of fleeting life. Precious metals and family names float, it would seem. Can they fly?
Immortality seems like it'd tip our scale of moral gravity. Might become numb to too much. Too quickly. Hard to fear the boogie man that is death when it's about as likely as Santa handing you coal for being a cunt.
I get uncomfortable sitting in chairs that seem too...nice, for my mindset. I'll opt to stand. I'd much prefer to carry on with the band, despite...
Immortality seems like, ironically, a death sentence. Too grandiose and dangerous for what we can really comprehend. Too many possibilities with not enough back against the wall decisions. Heh...a three day weekend to a lot of us leaves us without a lot of sensibly allocated seconds.
We're so weird in that sometimes we long for a shake up against the normality. We literally yearn for the occasional discourse. The controlled chaos mirroring the natural process of forest fires clearing away dead vegetation. Nas spoken words, "The bridge is over, the bridge is over. This is the time we destroy and rebuild." Our ingenuity looks to make icebergs seem like ice cubes, but...something must create the decay. Less we venture into the never was and create our own paradigm where such an inevitable as death doesn't exist.
Immortality now looks like a scene right before Icarus flew too high. Genome gentrification. We use to just try and break arbitrary records and hope they were remembered.
A promising ideal sidetracked by too bright of lights. Isn't that a shade of immortality though...to carve out something of importance? To exist within the rest of note worthy, things? To be an Icarian Sea within a Mediterranean Sea.
Immortality is the new death. Predictable, and unsurprising in the worst of ways.
No rescue boat necessary. If it didn't appear long ago to delay us, it won't now. Maybe it was sunk in a similar fashion as this stories namesake...
Immortality is blurred by our perfect ideals. Not sure if I'd rather rest in the reminiscence of others recollecting my respectful renaissance, or be forever reincarnating day by day...never a need for remembrance, cuz' I never relieved my position in existence.