Immortality isn't guaranteed...but tattoos are

    I have terrible self-control, almost no follow-through, and a small catalogue of procrastination habits. Marry these fantastic qualities with a pursuit of an autonomous profession and you have something resembling a reptile that hasn’t quite evolved legs, but really wants to get out of the water onto land. I flounder 80% of my waking life. Philosophers back to Plato and Aristotle called this paradoxical failure of the will - Akrasia.  Akrasia and I have been intimately seeing one another for the good part of the last 6 years. Recently, as I have grown past my rambunctious 23 years, my experimental 24, I have reached 25, where I should generally have the semblance of my shit together. Along this path I was given many opportunities to indulge in real careers that my technical education is suited for, yet some strange “I” always pulled the handbrake before accelerating down that slippery hill. I’ve never made a conscious decision to pursue “art”, and honestly, I think that term is too lofty for my britches, yet through the daily tumults, Pasha has embraced a fate that will likely lead to unnoticed oblivion. Music! Ha! This is my formal decree; I belong to IT now.    

    Going back to procrastination and my ever advancing age, I decided to get a little commitment device. The term commitment device is from game theory and applies to strategic situations. It refers to a way of changing one’s own incentives to make an otherwise empty threat or promise credible. Odysseus tying himself to a boat to hear the sirens is a classic example of a commitment device. I fashioned my adaptation around a quote and a previous affinity; a tattoo. 

He who has done his best for his own time has lived for all times. - Friedrich Schiller

   With one life we are given only one chance to do our best, in whatever field we may find ourselves. I guess I’ve had a hard-on for immortality since reading Kundera’s, you guessed it, “Immortality” and ever since fantasized about an intellectual legacy. Perhaps that’s the “I” that has kept me in the quest of finding an outlet for my quirks and habits. But the defeat of mortality would assume noteworthy work left behind in my jet-stream, and I can’t say whether or not this will actually ever happen. That’s the risk, I guess. Well, the real risk will be if I will make enough life tokens from my work to buy my future wife anniversary presents and feed for my husky.     

    Schiller may have been trying to provide simple consolation with his words. Alas, he only said, “Do your best!”. Well, leave it to me to mince his words and etch, “BECOME IMMORTAL YOU SAVAGE!!!” on my arm. (It actually says “live for all times”) Now, when I think it’s ok to sleep in, I’ll have a present reminder that that’s not my best. When I decide to stay out late when I have to record in the morning, I will be told that that’s not my best. Likely, the metric of BEST will never be understood, but the certainty of death will always loom. Cut the morbid with a lime…I only say this to suppress my own ego. To conclude, I only hope that Akrasia doesn’t plead for alimony and that something comes of this circus…I’m missing out on legit game-time by foregoing Pokemon Go sessions. 

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