ashes to ashes; dust to dust
Sometimes when I look at photographs I seem to see into the past and the future. Past happiness and sadness, future happiness and sadness. So much that does not last. We were born alone, and we die alone, and existence itself bears nothing of our passing - unless we make of ourselves something immortal, unless we borrow and thrive from the eternal, which is creative and true and good. It's really scary how easy it is to be distracted, to fool yourself that you are on the right path when you are pursuing all the wrong things.
It horrifies me.
It horrifies me.
Labels: life
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