My thoughts on the concept of living a very long life are only these: Terror and Dread!
How will we quantify very long? What will be the span of our lives; one hundred years; or perhaps even twenty more? Half a millennia? Surely not age immeasurable! That would be a punishment, not a reward.
How will we qualify life? What will be the condition of our “extant continua”, the duration of our indenture in a body of corruption?
How many decades must we endure imprisonment in such decrepit vessels; to be shackled by arthritic joints and brittle bones? How long must we stumble, shrouded in the gloom of eyes grown dim? And will the muffled voices of loved ones long forgotten penetrate def ears, to then bring comfort to a mind addled by unnatural old age?
Are we to live — or merely to exist in the terrible solitude of this cursed longevity? Must we watch in bitter sorrow as those whom we love wither and die while we persist? Never! Let me die while those I adore remain young, full of life and vigor!
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