I originally wrote this as a reply to another thread, but this one seems better fitting.
I wish billionaires, leaders and all the power-greedy alike, those who dream of Übermensch-esque cheating on Death so to keep exploiting humans and other lifeforms, a nice and inescapable immortality, full of health and vitality!
Sure, let 'em have it, why not?
Let 'em be fully alive while the entire surface of the Earth exceeds 100°C (~210°F) and melts every single AC unit after so much greed led by the fairy tale of Industrial Revolution’s infinite growth. Let 'em be fully alive to powerlessly watch as entire oceans boil up and the Earth Venusforms.
Let 'em be fully alive when Sol morphs into a Red Giant, swallowing the Earth together with mansions, artificial isles, yachts, jets, jewelry, costly art and furniture, and other wealthy. Let 'em be fully alive to see as their gold melts with the heat, their money bills start to carbonize and their bodies are somehow immune to it.
Let 'em be fully alive when every cosmic body from Andromeda turn the Milky Way into a chaotic bowling game, as they pointlessly try to deflect from countless debris so not to be spaghettified and flattened by cosmic boulders like petty Looney Tunes characters.
Let 'em be fully alive when the entire Cosmos reach the ultimate fate of either Big Freeze, Big Rip, Big Bounce or Big Crunch. Let them feel as their molecules can’t undergo chemical reactions anymore, let them find themselves stuck alive inside amorphous, halted goo. Let 'em feel as their individual atoms split at the subatomic level led by infinite cosmic expansion. Let them be cosmically cornered like tiny scared mice, either by a highly-energetic wall of plasma from the Big Bang of another universe, or by the entire fabric of spacetime continuum as it converges into a singularity point again.
Last but not least, let 'em be fully alive when the almighty Reaper comes and knocks at their biological doors, but since they can’t die, they’ll be stuck into inescapable and endless “nuisance” from an invisible scythe.
Let 'em wish they could be mortal again, let 'em beg Death Herself to grind their pitiful existences to a halt while She beautifully ignores their cries: “So you chose immortality, dear hominid? How nice is it to feel my utter-sharp scythe poking you without you ending up dying? How nice is to feel my blazingly-cold touch without being consumed spiritually as you got no spirit anymore, Sir Monopoly Monocles?”
Death is too easy of a punishment for 'em: the Dark Scarlet Goddess is too beautiful and lovely with Her sharp yet tender claws and long scythe. Rather, I wish 'em the entirety of cosmic eternity, with all whistles and bells inseparable from an untamed cosmos whose laws they can’t change, no matter how much wealthy or military titles they got to themselves, because the cosmos doesn’t give a nought about hominid self-awards.
@july@leminal.space
I originally wrote this as a reply to another thread, but this one seems better fitting.
I wish billionaires, leaders and all the power-greedy alike, those who dream of Übermensch-esque cheating on Death so to keep exploiting humans and other lifeforms, a nice and inescapable immortality, full of health and vitality!
Sure, let 'em have it, why not?
Let 'em be fully alive while the entire surface of the Earth exceeds 100°C (~210°F) and melts every single AC unit after so much greed led by the fairy tale of Industrial Revolution’s infinite growth. Let 'em be fully alive to powerlessly watch as entire oceans boil up and the Earth Venusforms.
Let 'em be fully alive when Sol morphs into a Red Giant, swallowing the Earth together with mansions, artificial isles, yachts, jets, jewelry, costly art and furniture, and other wealthy. Let 'em be fully alive to see as their gold melts with the heat, their money bills start to carbonize and their bodies are somehow immune to it.
Let 'em be fully alive when every cosmic body from Andromeda turn the Milky Way into a chaotic bowling game, as they pointlessly try to deflect from countless debris so not to be spaghettified and flattened by cosmic boulders like petty Looney Tunes characters.
Let 'em be fully alive when the entire Cosmos reach the ultimate fate of either Big Freeze, Big Rip, Big Bounce or Big Crunch. Let them feel as their molecules can’t undergo chemical reactions anymore, let them find themselves stuck alive inside amorphous, halted goo. Let 'em feel as their individual atoms split at the subatomic level led by infinite cosmic expansion. Let them be cosmically cornered like tiny scared mice, either by a highly-energetic wall of plasma from the Big Bang of another universe, or by the entire fabric of spacetime continuum as it converges into a singularity point again.
Last but not least, let 'em be fully alive when the almighty Reaper comes and knocks at their biological doors, but since they can’t die, they’ll be stuck into inescapable and endless “nuisance” from an invisible scythe.
Let 'em wish they could be mortal again, let 'em beg Death Herself to grind their pitiful existences to a halt while She beautifully ignores their cries: “So you chose immortality, dear hominid? How nice is it to feel my utter-sharp scythe poking you without you ending up dying? How nice is to feel my blazingly-cold touch without being consumed spiritually as you got no spirit anymore, Sir Monopoly Monocles?”
Death is too easy of a punishment for 'em: the Dark Scarlet Goddess is too beautiful and lovely with Her sharp yet tender claws and long scythe. Rather, I wish 'em the entirety of cosmic eternity, with all whistles and bells inseparable from an untamed cosmos whose laws they can’t change, no matter how much wealthy or military titles they got to themselves, because the cosmos doesn’t give a nought about hominid self-awards.
“Live longer as imposter, Speck of stardust!” 🖖