I refuse to see anything new or remotely upsetting.
I will only watch what I have already watched.
I will only read what I have already read.
I will only listen to the music with which I am already familiar.
I will dwell at all times within the memories of peak sexual, intellectual, artistic, and athletic experiences already experienced,
perfectly refined by the natural processes of selective self-serving memory creation.
And so I announce the advent of my own personal Era of Perfect Flow,
for so long as I can beat back all processes of senescence and death,
with Eternity the Ultimate Goal.
How is this possible?
Wasn't there a time in my life when everything was new to me?
Well . . . technically . . . yes . . . let me explain.
Once upon a time,
I was born.
And everything was new to me.
I lived a long life, taking in many experiences, achieving accolades, indulging in every vice, every pleasure with no limits;
occasionally, my body would be full of injuries, diseases, breakages;
my mind overtaxed, fractured;
and so I would take a vacation, ingest a massive regimen of restorative drugs, surgical nanobots, sentry nanobots, anti-biotics, pro-biotics, vitamins, nutrients so perfectly mixed that it was, essentially, a chunky, rich cocktail of Creation and Destruction in perfect balance;
and so I would be restored;
and so I would sally forth to accumulate new experiences.
My life proceeded in such a cyclical fashion for 187 years,
before my brain began to come up against the physical limits of its neural networks,
and so I obliterated the neural networks which inspired little to no nostalgic pleasure sensations,
and I made a wondrous discovery:
with total mastery over my physical existence,
and total command and control over my mind,
I realized that the best feelings, the most intense pleasure
derived from those experiences most redolent of nostalgia,
memories of peak sexual, intellectual, artistic, and athletic achievements.
And so I rewrote myself
to only continuously cycle through an internal program of all those past peaks,
those memories to which I would naturally return in moments of boredom, loneliness, isolation from other beings.
To maintain this internal phantasia as close to indefinitely as possible
I have had my brain and nervous system transferred into a formidable robot warrior body
that is programmed to ruthlessly extract the necessary fuels, nutrients, and restorative organic substances to maintain my Perfect Cyclical Brain Heaven,
while also maintaining its own powerful mecha body
by any means necessary,
until we are destroyed
or discover some unconquerable physical limits
which induce inescapable senescence unto death unresponsive to restorative regimens,
an unavoidable end.
I now formally declare my victory over the single most jarring enemy of Perfect Flow:
Surprise
All is structured,
all is now in accordance with the Laws of Nostalgia
and so shall all the Earth be subdued to serve these Laws,
'til the last resource is consumed,
'til such time as irreversible decay unto death is discovered as a New Law,
and not just an unfortunate tendency,
as we currently believe it to be.
I usually say, "Amen," at this point, but lately I've felt that's a bit much.
-December 2020
