Nothing Here, Move Along. Immortality Ahead Through Door #1B.

Death terrifies me. I mean terrifies me.

As an atheist and agnostic (see other sources for definitions; they're worth differentiating), I believe, for lack of additional evidence, in this life and no other.

Frankly, I'm rather attached to this life. And My greatest, truest, most honest desire is this: to witness history. To see what we become, or do not become. To witness the future on grand time scales so large as to make me dizzy while sitting down.

Not only us: I want to watch rock worn away, uplifted, continents drift, the Sun and stars evolve, the galaxies waltz, the vast and minute, the great footwork of the great Astaire and Rogers of time's arrow.

And I know that I will witness no such thing any more than a grain of sand on a beach witnesses and comprehends the greatest of human achievements. Less, to be sure.

And yet I wish it. Beyond all else.  From whence do legends of immortals come? From these feverish dreams of time within control. From within our desire -- born of evolutionary intelligence -- to surpass evolution itself.

My cat knows nothing of time, really. Food, rest, play, pleasure, fear, comfort...and, I like to think, Love. But immortality? Is she to be envied? Some, who might be called wise, would say yes. But that Zen-vectored view isn't one I can share anymore. I seek more. I seek the impossible, the forever cat, endless catnip.