“The atmosphere of delusions in my mind somehow seems to avoid interference with the strict source of realism that also lurks the depth of my murky intelligence. I wonder at times.” This isnt a question, but I saw this & it reminded me of you in some way.
That’s a neat line, and I’m flattered for it to’ve recalled me.
What frightens you the most about the future?
When I think about the future - specifically my future - I can’t help but get really bummed. But not for the good, obvious reasons (corruption of mankind, rape of Mother Earth, etc.), but rather because my future just isn’t going to be futurey enough. I watch and read and play all this great science fiction with interstellar space travel and interplanetary colonization and and other inter- things, and it’s just so heartbreaking to know that, even if we Earthlings are capable of that stuff before we die out, it’ll be at least two hundred years after I’m dead, so I’ll never get to experience any of it (unless, of course, modern medicine catches up or I find a tree with life-giving bark that compels me to shave my head and meditate and shit).
Right now is just a really sucky time to live, you know? We’ve explored and charted nearly every inch of the Earth (save much the Amazon and, what, the Mariana?), and while there’s still a lot of wonder left in ecology and the sort, our hard sciences are just too qualified and established for anything in our immediate realm to retain any legitimate mystery or, for that matter, mysticism. And granted, that all depends on how you view your cognitive/comprehensive limitations as related to the cosmos and/or god(s), but no matter how you slice it, things are getting less magickal by the day.
And then, like I said, on the opposite end of the spectrum, though science and technology are, relatively speaking, pretty near Singularity, when put on a mortal timeline, they’re still so far from accomplishing any interplanetary or intergalactic system like in Cowboy Bebop or Mass Effect, respectively.
Really this is all just to say that I’m really bummed that I can neither be a cowboy nor a space cowboy.
Or: What frightens me most about the future is the likelihood that I will soon drop from this mortal coil in relative anonymity, having lived an underwhelming life in which I accomplished very little of note, significance, or salience.
Been a while since I’ve shared my steed. With the help of some rare candy (read: duckets), it underwent a drastic evolution. Sorry about the shadow clutter; I’m a really lazy photographer.
