Almost everything we have today is more than what people dreamed about for most of human existence. If I could go back in time they would be oohing and awing at my tales of grilled cheese sandwiches. In my best ancient Sumerian I would summarize how I walk to this place called a supermarket where we buy food by picking what we want and lining up. Then I tell them how it’s not as great as it sounds because life gets really boring when you don’t think anyone is out to kill you.
“It’s really difficult to die,” I tell them. I go on by saying that some people even try to die but are unsuccessful. They tell me those people aren’t trying hard enough. I concur. If you fail at suicide it means you don’t want it badly enough.
At this point they are undecided on whether I’m from the future or just a nutjob but they’re infatuated with my great storytelling. When your best entertainment is flinging your own feces at each other you only need a minor gimmick to be the center of attention. I have to cut it short though because even in Mesopotamia no one likes a showoff.
As I transport back home I semi-conclude with the familiar notion that life is a game of the mind.