... goddamn.
This shit right here, it is the knife that cuts because it is true, because it is truth. The weakness of your future self murders the dreams and ambitions and energies of the original you, drags them behind on the freeway of life until nothing is left but a thousand-mile-long trail of rust.
The corruptions and decays, the rot and ruin of old age and disease and joint pain and slipped disks; they are nature's way of causing us to accept death by rendering our bodies progressively more and more uninhabitable.
If one thinks about it, really thinks about it, it is an utterly maddening notion. Small wonder we invented writing and reading and television.
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Thus the most amazing part of all this is that you found a way to wring optimisim, however brutalized, from this premise. Once again, goddamn 👏👏👏🙌 🙌 🙌
Thanks. I was very happy with this one, so I'm glad you like it.
And it is maddening, and I don't know how to deal with it. To counteract short-term failures of resolution, I've looked at things like Pavlok, or browser controls, or what have you. But I just don't know how to set it up so I can coordinate some resolution across all my future selves. And I can see that as I get older I get more and more inertia, and moreover as I decline I get more ok with the decline... still don't know what to do.