Would immortality be a blessing or a curse for the one who has it?

Immortality, while seemingly a grand prize, would ultimately be a profound curse. Imagine the sheer weight of endless existence. Every loss, every loved one who eventually fades, would be a wound that never heals, compounding over centuries. The world would change beyond recognition, leaving the immortal adrift in a sea of unfamiliarity, a perpetual stranger in every era. Furthermore, the meaning of life is often derived from its finitude. The preciousness of time, the urgency to achieve and experience, all stem from the knowledge that our days are numbered. Without this natural limit, motivation would likely wither. What is the point of striving when there is always tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that, stretching into an unending, perhaps monotonous, expanse. This lack of closure and the potential for eternal boredom would transform any initial blessing into an inescapable torment.