the diary of someone who never understood the world — even though he understood it well enough

The Diary Awaiting Oblivion (ENG) - 29/8/2025 does immortality exist? โดย athanasia(อาธานาเซีย) @Plotteller | พล็อตเทลเลอร์

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The Diary Awaiting Oblivion (ENG)

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ตะวันตก,เรื่องสั้น,เล่าประสบการณ์,อื่นๆ

แท็คที่เกี่ยวข้อง

ชีวิต ,ชีวิตประจำวัน,ชีวิตประ,ปรัชญา

รายละเอียด

The Diary Awaiting Oblivion (ENG) โดย athanasia(อาธานาเซีย) @Plotteller | พล็อตเทลเลอร์

the diary of someone who never understood the world — even though he understood it well enough

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athanasia(อาธานาเซีย)

เรื่องย่อ

สารบัญ

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เนื้อหา

29/8/2025 does immortality exist?

i sat thinking about life and death in a room of complete darkness

only the faint orange glow from a distant lamp at the corner of the bed kept flickering

i tried to imagine possible ways to escape death:

— cloning a body

— altering the properties of cells

— nanotechnology in some distant future

— transferring memory into a server

— or even building a sealed dome that records the arrangement of every atom within

but no matter how i think of it, all of it remains far beyond reach,

too far for my brief life, or for my small family to ever witness

and yet, what lingers in me is not the method of escaping death,

but the question:

“what is it that allows ‘me’ to still call myself ‘me’?”

if i were to create a clone, or transfer myself into a computer,

would that truly be “me”?

or merely a simulation of me?

and if i destroyed the original body—would the new one left behind have the right to be called “me”?

the answer that finally settled in me after long contemplation was this—

“i might have to create a clone, and connect both brains together

allow the old brain to slowly dissolve, while memory continues to flow seamlessly into the new one”

because what i believe sustains existence is “the continuity of memory”

 

the me of now and the me from ten years ago should not be the same person at all— the body has changed entirely, every cell from back then is long dead, and only the shadow of shared memory ties us together

so i should be nothing more than a “fragmented copy” of that child

and yet…

i still call that child of ten years ago “me”

on the other hand, if this continuity were broken—if i forgot everything, and only later remembered again,

then i could never truly say with certainty

that the person before…was ever really “me”