I don’t mind dying. Death is what makes life have meaning. Let me live long enough and at some point I would be eager to wrap up my concerns and shuffle off this mortal coil.
But I would prefer to die on my own terms, at a time of my own choosing, and in the meantime exist with all the physical and mental vigour of someone between the ages of 25 and 45.
And the key is not being immortal, as I would not want to always survive grievous injuries. I would want to be mortal on purpose – if an accident would kill a normal human despite immediate medical attention of the highest modern quality, I would want to die just the same. I would not want to continue existing as bloody paste paining the interior hull of an airliner that smacked into a mountain.
But barring accidents, I would love to loiter and observe the next few centuries in great health and youthful vigour. Doing what, I don’t know. That’s for the future to determine. But it would be interesting.
Eternally youthful but mortal life.
I don’t mind dying. Death is what makes life have meaning. Let me live long enough and at some point I would be eager to wrap up my concerns and shuffle off this mortal coil.
But I would prefer to die on my own terms, at a time of my own choosing, and in the meantime exist with all the physical and mental vigour of someone between the ages of 25 and 45.
And the key is not being immortal, as I would not want to always survive grievous injuries. I would want to be mortal on purpose – if an accident would kill a normal human despite immediate medical attention of the highest modern quality, I would want to die just the same. I would not want to continue existing as bloody paste paining the interior hull of an airliner that smacked into a mountain.
But barring accidents, I would love to loiter and observe the next few centuries in great health and youthful vigour. Doing what, I don’t know. That’s for the future to determine. But it would be interesting.