my rationale for many things is "it'll be okay when i'm dead." not because i'm sad, but because i see death as a destination where my earthly mistakes do not follow.
who am I, however, to say this, one who has never had to cling to life so dearly, forcing myself to recognize its true value?
I am comforted by the fact that the world will not cease to spin around my dead body; I am soothed by my impermanence. the scars I leave will fade completely after my death and the death of those I know.
but I am human. I want to touch people's lives, closely, and although no one will remember me in fifty years after my death, I want a quiet influence in preceding generations. I want this to be a legacy, indirectly passed.
I want to be special, I try. but how can I be sure that I act upon who is truly me?
I am a paradox at my very core. but aren't we all, as good and bad quarrel within us and manifest in what can be conflicting actions?
a life well lived is balanced, but life itself is anything but constant. my repose remains distant.
