He loves you, me, and all of us.
Riding a sled on thin ice might sound like fun—until you realize the lake is bottomless and full of existential consequences. So I'd rather avoid that kind of extreme sport and stay a bit closer to the metaphorical shore. I'm already living on the edge as it is.
See, I'm not really afraid of death or disease. What I truly fear is that cosmic hammer called Cancelling. A single swing from the Banhammer and boom—there goes your skull, or worse, your sense of self. I know it's hard to believe, given everything I've written so far, but yes—I'm terrified of that. I'm just like you. I swear! (Yes, I'm human too!) — Wink-wink, nudge-nudge.
Ah, whatever! Let's go! I'll try to write as tactfully as possible, watching every letter, because without my own lawyers, I'll have to dodge possible forensic-linguistic analysis by myself.
By the way, lawyers and lawmakers will also have a lot of work rewriting their codes, but won't that help them beat the boredom a little bit, right?
Especially since we are talking about the possibility of not aging and not dying of natural causes, and physical death is still not avoidable anyway. So the institutions of inheritance and all that would still remain — just restructured a bit, introducing new age limits (like, after 700 years you must pass on your ranch to a descendant). But let's not do the lawyers' work for them!
Okay-okay, I'm getting back into context and no more skidding around! This time — for sure. No off-topic! Everything, exactly as you command, dear demanding gaze — no jokes, no innuendos. Although... could we maybe add just a tiny bit? Pretty please?! Mom, can I have this cookie?
So, for safety's sake, let's relocate to a fictional land called QuestionLand—somewhere between a stormy cliff and a fluorescent campus food court.
Here, three travelers meet:
Two of them believe in immortality (in whatever form—bodily, cognitive, holographic—anything that lets John Doe stay John Doe forever), and the third is a deeply religious person who insists:
"Guys, just think about it—seriously (he talks casually, like someone who's comfortable in his faith)—isn't it kind of arrogant? Only God has the right to be God. Trying to stop death? That's hijacking something sacred. The soul is the only thing meant to last, and it returns to Him at the end of this earthly road. You're interrupting the divine schedule!"
The second traveler jumps in:
"But hey, friend—maybe God doesn't want you to die. Maybe He enjoys your joy, your smile, the way you look at the sunrise or get all excited about the rain tapping on your window. He's not cruel. Why would He want to lose someone who brings so much life?"
"And let's be real—practically speaking—why would a supreme being want to keep losing followers? Wouldn't it be nice to think He enjoys having us around for longer?"
To which the believer gently responds:
"Please, don't speak on God's behalf. You don't know what He wants. And you still haven't answered my question."
At this point, the third traveler—another fan of immortality—shrugs and says:
"Why are we even having this debate? Just do your thing and let me do mine."
"Excuse me?!"
"Yeah—just ignore me. I'll ignore you. And if we really need to talk, we'll do it on a panel, or a livestream debate, or scream at each other in the comments—no bullying, though."
"Let's agree on one thing: no hitting, no hateful insults. We can argue, debate, agree to disagree. Respect, or even just polite disregard—that's enough for civilized co-existence."
"No need to burn each other at the stake. Not unless you're into that, and then—well, there are roleplay forums for that."
The skies didn't crack open. The thunder stayed quiet.
And so, the three walked away in peace—each to their own path, each still certain they were absolutely right.
Moral of the story? Nobody's completely right. Nobody's completely wrong. People see the world through different lenses—and yet, somehow, civilization keeps stumbling forward. So don't panic. The apocalypse is mostly in your head.
No judgments here. No scoring cards. No purity tests. Just vibes. Now let's keep floating toward the epilogue—there's still gossip and weird ideas to share before we crash into that final black hole.