I much prefer what will actually happen. There are very good reasons we grow old and die, and all of those reasons apply to me, my aging body, and my increasingly dysfunctional DNA. Heaven forfend any of the myriad consequences of extending the existence of the physical meatsicle my consciousness is linked to, such as germline mutations, cancers, and worst of all, dementia, are visited upon me in some hapless and misguided attempt to remain subject to the limitations inherent to meatsicles when I should instead be enjoying the transcendence of them and the freedom and empowerment that comes with it.

I have showed good reason to understand consciousness, specifically our individual and personal consciousnesses, are protected from dissolution and destruction by the No Hiding theorem, a principle of the laws of physics, that are themselves the only just law extant. Since as meatsicles we are constrained to such perceptions as are availed by animated corpses, we remain incapable of detecting and interacting with consciousness by other, far superior and more informative, means. It is for this reason that the blatantly false speculations that people die when their body does are ever considered for even a moment of weakness.

We just have no means of quantifying and characterizing consciousness outside of animation of obscene bags of reeking glop. That does not mean consciousness dies with bodies, or that bodies do anything more than trap bits of it for that brief duration of relative blindness, confusion, and misunderstanding being stuck as a randy ape for a few decades entails.

Why would you recommend I forego surfing the stellar winds, seizing the infinite beautiful expanse, and participating in that universal fellowship unafflicted by the grotesque needs and draconian limitations of the physical form of hominins?

Do you hate me so? What did I ever do to you to deserve such cruel treatment?