Forgetting Time

This is a repost from WritingPrompts.

Sorry it's dark here. There's no lighting and really isn't a lot of moving space for me. People who put me here should've put more forethought into this.

They put me in here because they don't like what I said. It's also convenient that I don't die so their hands are clean from murder.

You see those days people were pretty depressed. They got everything they need but they're miserable as fuck. It's weird.

That bothered me why that is so. I mean, they have limited lifespan and they know it. They've got everything they need to achieve anything they want, so you'd think they would get to it quick.

I would know because the day I was made immortal, my priorities changed. When I have all the time in the world, I forgot what I wanted to do with it. Everything I thought I wanted was overridden by the question "why bother".

One thing I didn't plan on was I started observing people for fun. I pay attention to lives of people from their birth to their death across the ages. Some of them were surprised see me on their death beds.

I started telling people about these patterns of behaviors. Maybe I've developed some sense of hope.

I should've been careful about hope. They decided I was being offensive for my thoughts. Some people ratted me out for being an immortal.

So they shove me in here. In a casket, presumably deep underground.

I can't tell how long I've been here now. Coulda been ten years, coulda been two hundred.

There's an upside of being immortal you probably don't know about. You gain the power of not-giving-a-fuck quite naturally, in a truly authentic way. I really recommend it.

Pain is more intense in general. They say it's the price to pay. Specifically, the pain of time.

I wake up wondering what did I miss. I wonder what new technology has been invented that changed the game. What new discoveries have been made. What new thoughts have emerged.

I wonder if mankind is spacefaring yet. what inferior pattern has mankind overcame. I wonder how unbearable is pop music now.

It shouldn't matter that I'm trapped in this casket. I want to just shut the mind, fast forward to when someone bothers to open this up.

But I can still feel time passing by like blood in the vein. The only thing I can't shut is the mind.

Hang on, I hear a thud. Someone is here.