Dear future historian,
My legs ache so bad..
I walked so much yesterday. And I totally forgot that I haven't walked much after the lock-down. I just assumed my walking skills were waiting for me (and the World) to be ready. So it was kind of a surprise when I woke up today and every step hurts even more than the last one.
'The rent of existence,' like to be alive you can't just 'buy your stats' and then just put them on the side, expecting them to wait for you, whenever you feel like it (feel like running, waking for miles in a day.. living again among people, etc.)
It's like you need to keep paying rent, or a tax or something, constantly, or the 'stats' are reduced, maybe even taken away.
It's like Sisyphus. Walking up the mountain, carrying his rock, everyday.. You know, I guess you do, you are a historian after all, that for centuries that myth was interpreted so so blindly; focusing on the punishment, on the power of the gods to put such a horrific sentence to anyone who'd even try to gain immortality.
For real, I think, it took humanity centuries, and Albert Camus' mind, to realise that Sisyphus punishment represents human condition. A seemingly pointless, endless struggle.. to achieve nothing at the end. and then the next day.. you have to repeat everything, all over again and again. Life is a process of carrying a huge rock up the mountain, all day, only to have to do it all over again tomorrow.
But Albert Camus realised that Sisyphus can be happy, in his daily task (not even 'despite' it.) And mostly, nobody had realised that Sisyphus indeed did gain his immortality!
He was destined to live forever, carrying his rock up the mountain -yes.. only to carry it again tomorrow, but still- everyday, forever. Not in Hades, but on Earth, having a panoramic view sunset.. everyday. Sounds quite immortal to me.
If I do need to carry my rock (or my cross, as Jesus suggested,) up the mountain, everyday; if I have to keep getting up every morning, brushing my teeth, doing my personal care routine.. fighting the Dragons of Chaos and stuff, and somehow gain immortality in all that.. then I accept (especially if my descendants may inherit immortality too (with health and youthfulness.)
I mean, you know.. most people, whenever I start a conversation about the possibility of immortality, they get really uncomfortable. Years now, I do this little 'experiment.' And most people are terrified by such a thought; insisting that life is so hard, that they prefer to know its going to end at some point.
And yet what really is hard in life is getting sick and die, you or people around you. Like, what do they mean? Like there is no chance, if one of us makes it, still no chance to spread immortality to your loved ones. Or like if the only thing that helps them get up in the morning is that at some point all this is going to end. I don't know. I don't get it. If life is hard because people get sick and die, wouldn't immortality solve the problem? So I guess that's not really their problem. It's life itself they despite. It's that very fact of getting up in the morning and roll the rock up the hill.. that is what people are most scared of. Not what might happen to them, but what is actually happening; like if what people hate is gravity itself.
Well.. I love my gravity, I love my Earth. I am willing to roll the rock up the mountain.. for the millennia to come.
Maybe Sisyphus found a way, after all these centuries, to build some kind of mechanism to help him release some of his heavy burden. And maybe he has a phone, or something, with broadband.. and he connects to the World on his way back to the foot of the mountain, after his sunset meditation at the top.. Maybe he Googles stuff, to see what the new generations write about him.
Maybe I'll find immortality, and I'll Google to see what you have to say about me, my dear future historian.
So, anyway, yesterday I went to London for my 'life in the UK test' (citizenship test), and I passed! Last weeks I was studying for it, and it was so hard for me to remember names and dates. I guess because of my dyslexia. I didn't even wanna talk about it, that's why I didn't tell you anything. I was freaking out I might panic so much at the test, and that I won't make it.
I was shaking at some point there. Like totally shivering. Like I always get when I write a test, or I'm expected to communicate something that my failure to do so, would mean something.... sorry I need to go again, food is ready. Be back later.
Where was I? Oh yes. I passed the test. I was freaking out before. I forget names and days. I didn't wanna talk about it. Now I'm cool.. Let's change the subject. (Who said I'm still panicking for the uni test next year? Never believe these people!) And I need to stop saying 'like' so much.
P.S.1 I love London.
Note to self: I need to write about my British citizenship, Diogenes, and stuff..
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