July 19th, 2050
So many lives, so many now that I’ve lost count. I’ve been on this world far too long, long enough that I’ve seen things come around again, and again, and again. So long in fact that I’m growing tired of coming back, no matter that I’ve experienced more than one life in so many different ways. This current existence isn’t any different than any other aside from one thing, it’s lasted a bit longer than I expected.
The last time I wasn’t allowed to live past the 30s, as I’d made a few enemies at that point and had found myself in a rather tenuous spot. This time I’ve done what I can to avoid making enemies and to date I haven’t really had any serious problems.
My name is Riley O’Mara, or at least it used to be. In this incarnation it’s Jackson Mear, and I’m a black man in a country that, thankfully, has come through decades worth of strife and struggle. Our country, the USA if you’re wondering, was headed towards a serious downward slope not long after the 2016 presidential election, being that so many people wanted to play the victim card, the race card, and bring various other issues forth that made absolutely no sense. It took nearly 20 years to sort the mess out, and in that time I actually suffered two deaths, one that made no sense and another that was mostly my own doing.
Doesn’t make sense, does it? How can a person come back again and again and live through the same time, right?
If I knew then I’d gladly lay it out for you, honest word. But since I don’t even know that answer, let’s just leave it that I’d like to tell you story.
(to be continued)