My family has spent the last few billion years reproducing only if they found nonexistence unimaginable or terrifying. While I am one of them, and while I try to not blame myself for it, I resent the amount of time I spend considering how I feel about this, how I will feel the moment I die, and how many times more I will anxiously consider this between now and then.
On the other hand, I hope to giggle when I realize how similar dying is to falling asleep. Each day, I am no more.
I think my inclination towards digital hoarding is, at least in part, a refutation of my mortality and as close to the singularity as I will ever get.
What does this part mean?