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comment by user-inactivated
user-inactivated  ·  3966 days ago  ·  link  ·    ·  parent  ·  post: Hubski, what're you gonna be when you grow up?  ·  

    It's how weak the human capacity for thought and memories is. Hit your head too hard, and you're a completely different person. If you're really unlucky, you may just go crazy. I know this having talked to too many people who've had TBIs. The former comment about going crazy is a reference to this NFL player who killed himself, leaving a note mentioning how much he felt he'd gone mad from all the head trauma, and begging the NFL to improve helmet design so the pain he'd gone through doesn't ever happen again to anyone else... It's an extremely sad story.

You forgot one...

--

You know something weird? The first part of your post, about the practically infinite numbers of people out there, the limitless encounters we can all have with each other, the uniqueness we bring to this planet? That makes me so happy. Not sad, not even close. Almost euphoric. In the same way I can't handle thinking about the space beyond space, I really can't even imagine all these people and their fascinating lives, and thank god I can't. I'm glad there's always more going on, no matter how bad (or even good!) things are around me. The collective of humanity is the most fascinating thing ever; I hope you can sort of see my point of view. People are magical -- so celebrate the ones you know and will know, don't mourn the ones you'll never meet.

Can I share a semi-relevant poem I wrote once? Fuck it, I'm sharing a poem.

    The brightly-lit faces of the passers-by are illuminated by the city lights

    Their conversations so varied are lost to my hearing as they turn distant corners

    So in my mind I tell their stories for them

    Across the street a sad-faced foreign man selling gyros from behind a shadow

    He won't make it in time to tuck his children into bed tonight -- he never does

    Perhaps he won't go home at all, just wander the damp streets lost in dreams

    On my left a bored policeman, existing only for tourists' pictures

    I don't like his smile, his shifty, sweating smile -- he won't meet my eyes

    He knows he isn't doing his job but can't admit it to himself

    By my side a platinum lady, in heels and clingingly sequined, laughing too much

    I don't know what she's laughing about -- what the world is laughing about

    Maybe I'm not in on the secret because I haven't had enough to drink

    I continue through the lavish square, such a grand dichotomy of lifestyles

    It makes for interesting stories -- to me

    I imagine what it means to the people I pass

    To the street vendor, it means a childhood spent barefoot among the alleyways

    To the officer, the constant possibility of action -- and failure

    To the stumbling socialite, selfish in her youth, it means nothing

    To me? stories, material, memories ... the children of my mind





gordonz88  ·  3966 days ago  ·  link  ·  

Thank you! Just hearing your thoughts on this makes me really happy. Being alive truly is a gift, and I didn't mean to make it out to be all negative, it's just to someone really just getting a taste of what's out there, it can be quite overwhelming. In these past few years, I really have had my first few tastes of loss, rejection, failure, but it really is overshadowed by all the joys life has to bring. The negativity is not so much about life as it is now for me, but rather uncertainty of what the future has to bring. Threads about later stages of life really get to me the most. For instance, Askreddit threads asking "Older members, what are your regrets?" or "What do you wish you could experience again the most?" and other iterations.

Life is not all bad at all though! The phrase "The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else’s highlight reel" is more flexible than we think, and it really is a powerful concept. Those threads specifically poke for people's regrets, but what we're not hearing are the memories they remember fondly! We're not hearing the joy of seeing their children speak their first words, the joy of a lifetime's worth of arts and books, and so on.

Honestly, what I want most from futurology is a better, more consistent, more complete way of experiencing the life of another individual.

A machine that allows me to instantly relive the life of someone else, in all its glory. Feel all their pain, sorrow, and regret, but also all their excitement, pride, laughter, etc. Hopefully all within the matter of seconds in real time.

I think understanding each other and recognizing everyone as a beautiful part of nature (even if you'll never meet them) is the key to peace; sometime I can't fathom people who are self-centered to the point where they don't even acknowledge others as equals. It doesn't anger me, it just confuses me. This machine would work infinitely better than biogrophies, books, etc. and I think it would be one large step to world peace.

Or, maybe it'll make people go mad and make them feel infinitesimally worthless. I don't know.

Thank you for your words, and the beautiful poem.