Does this game really mean so much to you that you're willing to hide in a cave for 10,000 years?
Well,
.
.
.
The game only barely matters to me at this point.
There seems to be a theme here.
It's enough to keep me going. It's an objective, you know? It's an objective.
You know, I was an old man. I was 87 years old the day we stopped aging. And I was in good health and all that, but I was still waking up every day and telling myself, "Eddie, could be any day now. It could be any day." And I made peace with that. Having an end, knowing one day would be the last day, it felt ... correct. It felt comfortable.
That's been taken from me. The telomeres in my cells stopped shrinking. My wrinkles faded themselves away. I remember on my 128th birthday, I woke up and it was beautiful and I went out for a run. I hadn't gone out for a run my whole life! It was the best time I ever had. Goddamn ... it was the best morning I ever had. I didn't even have good shoes for it, just my old loafers. Got blisters like you wouldn't believe.
Those were the times, but those times gave way to being afraid. Who wants to live forever? What am I gonna do with forever? And so I figured, you know, I need to get good at living life from second to second. Forget all these big conquests. Live second, to second, to second, to second, one at a time.
That's what this cave is for.
You're kind of like a monk or something then, I guess.
Suppose I kind of am.
