An ending in the pixel of an infinite horizon | Permalink

In the impermanence of time we exist, then disappear and the remains of our existance our wiped out to be forgotten in a void where they will exist, yet they won't be seen, nor sensed. Our remains are there, but they cannot be seen, not touched or smelled. If we cannot be sensed with our senses, then what are us? We are what we are, not a mountain, not a pebble, but ourselves. Our body is our vessel that carries our soul and mind. You feel pain, you still have a mind. You feel anger, you still have a heart. If we, ourselves, break that vessel and give in to darkness, the fear will come, and we will never come back. Our vessel, by the rules of existance, can only be transformed by the forces of nature, those which are of kindness and warmth, those that cover us and form the piece of sand we call Earth, those that protect us from the barrrage of the dynamic energies of the universe, letting us live and evolve. We live to give part from us to the bodies of our sons and daughters, but we also live to let them see what and where they belong to, where they live, where will they roam and recon on the horizon of impermanence, on just the very end of a pixel of an infinite horizon which we call our home.