we need to keep accomplishing things, taking steps or the game ends. to keep cutting notches on the imaginary belt we tie around our selves, placing coins in the banks, creating the moments we sketch into our social media diaries. to keep our relationships in momentum, to keep gifting and petting and promising a happier now and tomorrow. at a point we give up, one after the other, and then the fall comes.
some of the prettiest things are those in sadness, those in decay. creating a fragility in life that makes it count. the patina on an aging object, although easily wiped away, is the most beautiful thing in the world. a color that once showed hope and life, faded and faintly left, lingering on where it once held strong. it all passes. the whole kit, cat and caboodle.
and when it ends we simply put our head down and wait for the inevitable, for our time to run out, for our candle to but out. we wait for the body and mind to go back from where it came. we let the relationships die, the houses decay, our memories fade. we have little choice in the matter, any attempt at holding on, on holding court, is futile. anything done in haste, out of sorts, is in itself an act of desperation. so we let it go. back where it came from, back into nothingness and nowhere, where everything and all of it came out of. back into the abyss only to come back on the other side where it all starts afresh. a fresh start, a new morning, a new renewal, right on the other side of winter where it all dies, if only temporarily.