[Thoughts after watching the movie “Robot and Frank,” which portrays a depressing image of my future?]

As my blog fades into obscurity, I go back over the sensations in me right now…

…the emptiness…

…the muscles and tendons shivering…

…the joints aching…

…looking at a clock which indicates 13,593 days until whatever I want to say is supposed to happen in that 24-hour period…

…glad I am happy being me, observing and reporting in an online diary the same way I have talked to myself since I was at least five years old…

…retiring at age 45, ready for my life to end at any moment, no more mountains to climb, or impossible dreams to make real.

I am a tired, old man, weary of the ways of our species, always left with just me to entertain myself in my thoughts at the end of every day.

If the universe is supposed to be a projection of my thoughts, then I can close down this movie theatre of my mind and say the show has run its course.

My desire for social engagement is limited by the boredom that quickly seeps into hearing yet another combination of people talking about their lives that I have experienced or heard in one form or another for over 50 years.

Why live any longer and watch my mind disappear, my body decay and my life at the mercy of professional caretakers, human and/or robot, who we can plug into each other’s lives as needed in socioeconomic interchange because our wealth, not our thoughts, define us?

If I’m merely the combination of trillions of cells, sets of states of energy in synergistic, symbiotic relationships temporarily, how do I let go of the “I” and disperse these states of energy into other sets and combinations?

If we can legalize abortion, then by extension we should legalize murder and suicide, should we not, because there’s nothing sacred about life anymore, is there, the wonders of the universe fading into the simple facts of rational scientific methods and erasable memories?

I am tired of participating in the competitive marketplace of ideas, tired of finding no one who agrees with my thought patterns, tired of being tired, tired of being tired of being tired, and ready to close this blog except I’ve pretty well memorized its location as a globally-accessible online diary I can get to just about anywhere so I might as well keep writing here in obscurity.

Out of obscurity and back in again — the definition of life?