stalking artificial immortality...
...the new thirty
They say that Forty is the new 30, and then claim that Fifty is the new 40. I hope they cease this nonsense and declare Sixty the new 90, because that's how may actually feel. At some point, truth must become the new denial.
Do we forever cling to a false youth by feigning each new decade as a bizarre déjà vu? Do we actually believe this deception creates a more positive present, or are we just deluding ourselves with blind hope?
Can we ever seek the true wisdom by continually fooling ourselves in an ever-deepening pit of temporal deceit? Can people earn biological respect without living scores of actual, sequential years? Are we not stunting our mental maturity by believing that life is living in a perpetual past? A past that never catches up, and leaves us futureless.
Compound, and consider this alongside significant post-partum role models. Rock stars of the sixties and seventies (50's and 60's) passed away, from living too fast and supplementing their poor diets with drugs and alcohol. They often managed to complete their lives around the age of twenty-seven (seems like 17). Fortunately, those idols we worshipped represented horrible examples of passing lifestyles.
This is the lost decade predicated by uncertain motivation, enept decisions, and the bold realization that the future is nothing more than living forever, day to day, year after year, in a practiced semblance of unenlightened routine while crawling impatiantly towards some impossible dream of personal growth based on a prior decade.
Soon enough, the horizon projects a mortgage, a bigger and newer car every year, and a beautiful spouse who can supply the option of kids needing braces and college loans, if not lawyer fees to pay for. Unlike generations before, we believe ourselves immortal. We have saddled ourselves with enough illusion and required possessions to acquire a personal, non-independent predisposition for wealth. Our potential is simply to endlessly acquire needless and unnecessary possessions on which to heap pointless achievements, compelling us to reach artificial immortality.
Our perpetual youth is maintained by permanent auto-dependence on big pharma and forever free and open broadband access. Our needs are so much greater than anyone could have ever cared to admit or tried to predict, except for the poor and homeless whom we care only to forget.
The truth about being Sixty is that we want to believe it from a new ninety (actually a new 100, or more). We want to opt out of ageing altogether and become permanent hipsters. A modern age version of the forever thirty-three and a third. A long-player, an LP of continuous rebirth. A scratchy old vinyl record played endlessly until it sounds like shit. High Fidelity is coming of age once again, only with auto-tune.
The classic over-the-hill rocker, rising from the verge of the void with viagra, becoming another top teen hit! A golden oldie, born anew. Just press the button to earn your pre-approved $3200 Social Security Supplemental Food Bonus card. Use it for food or pajamas. Whatever your heart desires. All of your future needs will be in hand. Offer ends tomorrow.
-dp-
7-13-21/5-15-25
354/296/358/489/568
(30)
PS- pretend there's a picture here. It's easy to do. pretend there's a point to posting here, as opposed to anywhere else. This platform does not inspire me to write, much less feel creative. Not to say I won't post here again before my contract perspires (sic). Fortunately I believe in back up.
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