I’m weird? You’re weird.

Everything you consider normal would be considered weird a hundred years ago, and will be considered weird a hundred years from now. All of your habits, expectations, and rituals, are completely arbitrary, generated by the randomness of where you showed up on the timeline of galactic events. So if I seem weird, it’s just because I have some perspective on how random and irrelevant this society is. Everything you worry about and cherish, revere, and hold sacred, will be gone and mostly forgotten in a few centuries. Someday, the humans of Earth will give you no more thought than you give to a random citizen of ancient Greece. And they will chuckle at your clothes, your music, your sense of humor, and your literature. And I will be there, chuckling with them, because I will be a cyborg by that time.

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