With the richness of life’s complexities whispering in my ear, waves gently caressing my feet and grains of sand draining from my clenched fist, I find myself returning again and again to the birthplace of my eternal affliction, my immortality. May it be by the hands of divine intervention, the holy grail or the fountain of youth; to all men it is a prize they would risk mind, body and soul to receive or scour the ends of the earth to find. But men are mere fools seduced by myths and children’s tales, they don’t understand the full consequences of outliving time itself.
Immortality is a curse; a torture even beyond the devil’s evil. Can you imagine watching everybody or everything you ever cared about crumble to dust and blown mercilessly away by the wind? Can you imagine experiencing first hand every last terrible tragedy and brutal war in mankind’s history? Can you imagine being a ghost condemned to walking endlessly alone in this cold world? I don’t have to imagine; this is my dark and twisted reality played agonisingly on loop.
A real blessing is the fragility of life; a gift you must hold gently in the palm of your hands and protect from harm. It’s because life is delicate and fleeting that it possesses so much significance and preciousness, since at any time it can be lost forever. Treasure life because no amount of gold, diamonds or money is its equal.
In my dreams I look out across the ocean at my empty casket and finaly I’m freed to wade in far enough to reach it and escape from existence. In this beautiful fantasy, death is a life raft to save me from my immortality. But then I wake up and realise I’m still trapped in my nightmare.