Here’s a question I’m sure we all asked ourselves: Do I want to live forever?
...Well? Do you?
Personally, I never had an issue with this question. Of course I want to live forever! Duh—sort of a no brainer—don’t you think? Jeez. I mean, why not? Right? Think about all the things you can accomplish if you didn’t have the Grim Reaper nippin’ at your ankles.
Just to be clear: I’m talking about old-fashioned immortality, okay? None of this fancy, high-tech, gizmo contraption, teleporter, bullshit devices that are designed to simulate immortality. Got that? There can be only one.
If you were immortal, think about all the cool things you can do. If you wanted, you could set up a lawn chair next to a mountain and watch it erode. Yeah! Doesn’t that sound badass? If I were immortal, I would certainly dedicate at least 10 million years, to watch a mountain crumble to its rocky knees.
Most people bring a lunch because they need the nourishment. Nope. Not me. I would bring a lunch because I like the taste.
There’s so much available to a typical immortal, it’s almost mind numbingly baffling. You could hibernate every few hundred years, and wake up as new technological advances are being invented. That’s just scratching the surface: you could hibernate for as long as your heart desires.
Yeah, yeah—humanity may blow itself up while you’re sleeping. If that happens, guess what? Hibernate for another few thousand years, and presto! Humanity will have hopefully rebuilt itself.
Not that you need people, right? A typical immortal operates on a level that cannot be understood. If you wanted, you could cling to a rocket, blast off into the eternal canvas above our heads, and float among the stars. For those that are concerned about such things, yes, this typical rocket provides enough acceleration to actually leave the solar system. No need to nerd-out on me in the future.
Now that you’re floating among the stars (after you spent an unknown amount of time drifting through the Orrt Cloud) what can you do? Pretty much nothing. And that’s the point.
With nothing, but the cold tendrils of space, to keep you company, there’s not much there is to do. Sure, you can look at the stars…let’s be real—that’s going to become boring, especially after thousands of years of pretty much looking at the same sky.
Plus, you’re going to be spinning and shit, not the most ideal scenario, for star-gazing.
I assume, if you spend enough time floatin‘ around, hopefully, just maybe, with a little luck, if all the stars align—you’ll smack into an alien craft.
I also assume that any intellectual alien species would be interested in a typical immortal. You could survive the dissection process, so that’s not necessarily an issue. The plan is to escape, once they make the mistake of whisking you away to their home planet, or space colony, or whatever the hell it is they reside in.
Once you touch down on their home planet, it’s time to escape. That’s when you start cracking some skulls, kicking some ass, kicks to the groin—IF your pleas are ignored. Meaning, you first ask politely: Sir, Mr/Ms. Alien, I’d like to leave now, pretty please?
If that doesn’t work? You throw them all a beating. No question about it.
(And if they don’t have groins, well, I guess you’re fucked.)
After you delivered all the beatings you can handle, the next step? Hijacking a spacecraft, and then zipping off into the great unknown. The universe becomes your playground. Enjoy.
You can go beyond hijacking alien spacecrafts.
Feel like swimming in a volcano?