[ WP ] you were given the choice of immortality , and you took it . Now , millions of years later , you are floating in space . Alone with your thoughts .


 Days transpire, and I fail to realize. Years go by, and I do n't notice. Eons pass, and I bearly feel a thing. If I knew immortality would be so dull, perhaps I would've taken the second option; though, I ca n't say I remember what it was. When you live for as long as I have, you tend to forget things. The taste of roast chicken on a Sunday morn, the shimmer of rain on an Audi A3- careening around the next corner, my mother's name. All things that I once knew, and had known for decades just... gone. I relinquished the short, and bittersweet end I was destined for, in exchange for an infinite existence, of no taste at all. `` Everything's easy in hindsight'', they said, `` Do n't beat yourself up over it'', they said. But being older, I knew better: only an irredeemable moron would choose eternal life because they'd be too dim to realize how populated the Earth is compared to the rest of the universe. Once the Earth is gone, but you're still here, what do you plan on doing? 
 To which the answer is to wallow in self-pity, regret, and abject misery for the rest of eternity as you drift through space endlessly, your dreams of how it used to be your only solace, but also your greatest torment. It'll never happen. I'll never land on the doorstep of an intelligent civilization again. Not within a time period that I can comprehend. Thus, it is my only hope that I lose my sanity long before it happens. 
 The company of my own thoughts has done a remarkable job in keeping me sane: perhaps I'm already mad and do n't know it.
