Once upon a time there was a man who was so smart, that by the time he was twenty, he could see how the rest of his life would play out, and thus satisfied, he killed himself.
Just like a chessmaster knows how many and what moves would it take for a checkmate, the man knew how each moment, each hour, each day of the rest of his life would be. It was not a bleak future, but he knew it nonetheless. There was no novelty left now.
Once this was known, the only thing left was to experience the future through the senses. The mind already knew, it had enjoyed and suffered, just as one experiences reality. To keep on living, dragging the body along when the mind had lost interest, would have been a long drawn out prison sentence. Treading on a path already trodden on, chewing and tasting stale ideas. Life was now, thus, an insult to his intellect, and he ended it.
Just like a chessmaster knows how many and what moves would it take for a checkmate, the man knew how each moment, each hour, each day of the rest of his life would be. It was not a bleak future, but he knew it nonetheless. There was no novelty left now.
Once this was known, the only thing left was to experience the future through the senses. The mind already knew, it had enjoyed and suffered, just as one experiences reality. To keep on living, dragging the body along when the mind had lost interest, would have been a long drawn out prison sentence. Treading on a path already trodden on, chewing and tasting stale ideas. Life was now, thus, an insult to his intellect, and he ended it.
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