On Life Death and Immortality

You know what’s stupidly beautiful? Life. You know what’s stupidly stupid? That it ends.

Lately, I’ve been scrolling too much (who hasn’t?), and somewhere between a reel about dogs doing yoga and a weird mushroom that looks like a brain, I stumbled upon a headline: “Scientists Say Death After Cardiac Arrest Might Not Be Final.” Say what now?

Basically, there’s a growing body of research suggesting that if your heart stops, you might technically be dead, but not really, because they might be able to switch you back on. Like a reboot. Apparently, we’re getting closer to the point where death might become… optional?

And I love that idea. Because honestly, as much as I sometimes feel meh about the messes of life – the stress, the noise, the “oh god, I ate too much cheese again” regret – I really don’t want to die. I just want the option to stay and observe this absurd, tragicomic human play for as long as possible.

But here’s the paradox: I don’t want to die, but I also lack the will to do squats. Or drink smoothies that look like someone blended a forest. Isn’t that the height of idiocy? Immortality fantasies with zero cardio commitment. I know I should stay fit – but instead, I find myself bargaining with science to please, just make immortality happen before my knees give out.

And while I’m dreaming, maybe a gentle vampire could swing by and offer a forever plan – minus the blood, please. I gag at the smell of raw meat. (Do vampires even have taste buds? And if they do, how do they not vomit drinking blood? Questions that haunt me more than death itself.)

Speaking of being haunted – there was another scroll, right after the death-resurrection article. It spoke of people who “discovered something” and accidentally shared it with the world. Next thing you know, they’re found dead under mysterious circumstances. Coincidence? Sure. But you and I both know about that gut feeling. That something out there, call it what you will – evil, devil, systemic manipulation, whatever your belief system allows – it exists. And it doesn’t like it when people get too close to uncomfortable truths.

I mean, why else can’t we regrow teeth? Lizards can regrow tails. Axolotls can regrow limbs. But us? One wrong bite of popcorn and it’s a crown, a root canal, a bill that costs more than rent. Convenient for someone’s profit, no?

Same with cancer. Cures exist – herbs, compounds, suppressed research. But we keep cycling in systems that favor treatment over healing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-doctor. I just find it curious how often we’re told, “there’s no cure,” and then some random farmer in Peru drinks a plant tea and lives to 112.

But this isn’t about medicine. It’s about life. And death.

To me, death feels like the deep sleep we don’t remember. A click – lights out – no dreams. Not scary, just blank. And maybe, just maybe, if there is something after, it’s not the fluffy clouds and golden gates. Maybe it’s a place where love is not the kind we obsess over here – not needy, not jealous, not packaged with fear. Maybe it’s a pure frequency, one we haven’t evolved enough to fully sense.

Or maybe… it’s just off. Like a lamp that’s been unplugged.

Still, here I am, writing this not because I fear death – but because I really like being alive. The smell of rain. The curve of someone’s smile. Music that hits you in the ribs. The way dogs sigh when they lie down. That’s enough. That’s magic. That’s why I want the choice to stay.

So until science figures out this whole resurrection or immortality thing, I’ll try – imperfectly – to stretch, to breathe, to eat the occasional vegetable. Maybe even go for a walk. Just in case it buys me more time.

Or, you know, if you’re a nice, non-creepy vampire reading this – DM me.