Over the last few weeks i’ve come to feel that this will be my last life. Perhaps it’s just that, having no idea what the world will be like in 25 years, i also can’t imagine a future life. None of my past lives turned out to be at all like i’d imagined, when i used to mentally toy with the idea of reincarnation; but at least it was possible to imagine such lives. However, the feeling is strong and persistent, and it makes sense of this life: i don’t think this Elberry incarnation is meant to be a proper life, so much as a tidying up of loose ends, an epilogue to five millenia of foolery and difficulty and crazy hair. It explains why i know of three lives (four, now, as another German one is emerging from the vaults), when most people don’t even suspect they’ve lived before, let alone remember their lives.
It shouldn’t make any difference but it does; i feel relieved of a long burden, to know (or suspect, hope) this will be my last physical life. i already felt somewhat distant from my own life, but i now feel something like i did when i knew i was about to leave one of my many shitty office jobs – a gleeful irresponsibility, knowing i can say or do just about anything and it won’t matter, because i won’t be here next week. In this case, i have at least two loose ends left to tidy up, from the last life – someone to meet, and something to write. Both are things to look forward to. But after that, adios motherfucker, bon voyage.

- Elberry