Below is an essay written in the style of Eric Kim, a street photographer and blogger known for his bold, unapologetic, and introspective voice. His writing often blends philosophy, self-experimentation, and a raw, minimalist ethos. I’ve channeled that energy here to tackle the question of “how to become immortal.” Let’s dive in.

How to Become Immortal

By Eric Kim (as imagined)

Yo, let’s cut the bullshit. Immortality? Everyone’s chasing it—whether they admit it or not. The billionaires are pumping cash into cryogenic tanks, the biohackers are popping pills to stretch their telomeres, and the rest of us are just hoping our selfies outlive us on some dusty server. But real talk: immortality ain’t about your meat sack lasting forever. It’s about something deeper, something rawer. Here’s my take—straight from the streets, no filter.

First off, forget the physical. Your body’s a rental car—drive it hard, enjoy the ride, but don’t cry when it’s time to return the keys. I’ve been lifting heavy at the gym, eating bloody steaks, and walking 20,000 steps a day, but I’m not delusional. This flesh is temporary. Immortality isn’t about dodging the reaper; it’s about etching your soul into the universe. How? Create something that outlasts you. I’m talking art, ideas, vibes—shit that hits people in the gut long after you’re dust.

Take my photography. I hit the pavement, camera in hand, capturing the chaos of life—strangers’ eyes, cracked sidewalks, fleeting light. Every click is a stab at eternity. Why? Because a photo doesn’t die. It sits there, staring back at the world, whispering, “Eric was here.” You don’t need a Leica to do this. Write a sentence that burns. Paint a wall. Cook a recipe so damn good your grandkids fight over it. Make something—anything—that’s so you it can’t be erased.

Next, live loud. I mean, LIVE. Most people tiptoe through existence, scared to piss anyone off. Not me. I’m yelling in the streets, laughing too hard, pissing off the right people. Immortality’s not for the timid. You want to be remembered? Be unforgettable. Stir the pot. When I’m gone, nobody’s saying, “Eric? Oh yeah, that quiet guy.” They’ll say, “That dude was a force.” Leave a dent—emotional, mental, whatever. Just don’t fade into beige.

Here’s the gritty part: strip it down. Minimalism is my gospel. You don’t need a mansion or a million followers to be immortal. Complexity buries you; simplicity makes you eternal. Look at the Stoics—Marcus Aurelius scribbled thoughts in a tent 2,000 years ago, and I’m still quoting him over black coffee. Why? He kept it real, no fluff. Shed the excess—possessions, regrets, fake friends. What’s left is the core of you, the part that echoes.

And yeah, love hard. Not the sappy Hallmark kind—real love. Pour yourself into someone, a kid, a partner, a stranger on the corner. I think about my mom, my wife Cindy, the people who’ve shaped me. They’re in my bones, and I’m in theirs. That’s immortality too—living in someone’s heartbeat after yours stops.

Last thing: embrace the end. I’m not afraid to die. I’ve stared at death in the face—figuratively, sure, but also in the risks I take, the streets I roam. Fearlessness is freedom. If you’re clutching at life, you’re already losing. Let go, and you’ll stick around in ways you can’t predict.

So, how do you become immortal? You don’t become it—you are it, right now, if you choose. Snap the photo. Speak the truth. Love like a lunatic. Strip it all bare. The reaper’s coming, but he can’t touch what you leave behind. That’s the Eric Kim way. Now go do it—time’s ticking, fam.

This essay mirrors Eric Kim’s voice—direct, punchy, and a little abrasive, with a mix of streetwise grit and philosophical swagger. Let me know if you’d like it tweaked!

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How to Become Immortal — in the voice of Eric Kim

First off, let’s get one thing straight: you’re going to die. Your body, your skin, your flesh — they will all disintegrate. Dust, ashes, worm food. But the idea of you? That’s something else. Immortality isn’t about flesh. It’s about idea.

1. Immortality is Creative Output

You become immortal by creating. By writing, making photos, starting businesses, building tools, recording videos, designing. Your body is mortal; your ideas are immortal. Every photo you publish is a little piece of your soul. Every essay, every thought, every note jotted in a journal that you share — those are digital seeds that sprout long after your body dies.

If you write something that impacts one person — just one — you live in their mind forever. That’s immortality.

2. Share Prolifically

Don’t hoard. Share. Share raw, share imperfect, share now. Don’t wait until you’re “ready.” Publish fast. Ship daily. The world doesn’t need perfect. The world needs you. Your fingerprints, your perspective, your chaos.

3. Be Hyper-Personal

The more personal, the more universal. You think your struggles are yours alone? No. Your fears, your insecurities, your questions — they’re everyone’s. When you share them honestly, you become a voice that whispers to others long after you’re gone.

4. Play the Long Game

Stop thinking about going viral tomorrow. Think 500 years from now. Think: “Will this idea still make sense in a world I can’t even imagine?” Write timelessly. Create timelessly. Make things that will matter to a version of humanity you’ll never meet.

5. Focus on Legacy, Not Fame

Fame is fickle. Legacy endures. Seek not attention; seek influence. Who will still reference you after you’re dead? That’s legacy. Don’t worry about social metrics. Worry about impact metrics.

6. Compress Your Soul Into Symbols

A photograph is a compressed soul. A haiku is a compressed worldview. A design is compressed clarity. Your job is to distill the chaos inside you into dense, powerful symbols that will outlive you. Think of each creation as a stone in the foundation of your immortality.

7. Become an Idea Machine

Every day, make something. Not everything will hit. But immortality is statistical. The more you make, the more seeds you plant. Some will die. Some will take root. And one might just become a forest.

8. Don’t Fear Death — Use It

Memento mori. Death sharpens focus. Every day is a deadline. Use that pressure. Create like it’s your last day — because one day, it will be.

Conclusion: Immortality is a byproduct of relentless creation

You cannot will yourself immortal through thoughts alone. Immortality is the result of daily creative action, radical honesty, and fearless sharing. Make today. Publish today. Repeat.

And when you’re gone, people will still whisper your name — not because you lived forever, but because your ideas did.

— Eric Kim voice off