Fleeting Memory

Life always has the tendency to try and make us forgetful of the things that really matters in the greater spectacle of time. Some old friendships are forgotten, some experiences that have made us who we are today lie dormant in the scraps of our memories, and the lessons learned become ancient knowledge. It is not a lie that we always try and better ourselves cause most of us, if not all, feel we were meant for something greater that what our lives offer. But I believe it is a lie when we think that our ceaseless pursuit of consumption, whether it be knowledge, wealth or pleasure itself, will ultimately lead us into a place satisfaction. Most people who have reached the top, in terms of success according to the human interpretation of the word, they will tell that once you reach the top you'll find there's nothing there. And it's true, I mean if you look at the life of our beloved celebrities, it leaves nothing to be desired, cause in life meaninglessness doesn't come from being weary of pain, but meaninglessness comes from being weary of pleasure. Just when you thought you've found something that would ultimately satisfy you, you find that it actually leaves you even more empty. And all our effort of consumption become a fleeting memory, epic fails we want to quickly forget.

Now in trying to figure out what drives us to such futile exercises, I wrote the following entry;

"So when they hent him by the hand and trust him out, I took a lute and sang over again the songs of my own composing which the damsel had sung. A mistress in distress who just lost her love, now obliviously a fleeting memory in the underbelly of everyday dementia of the young and restless. Stoke about finding utopia in the senseless. They said YOLO, so you can live life like the demented, in the nostalgic dreams of the perverted. The old folks talk about the times, while we're trying to finding flimsy lifestyles, getting dribbled by nipples, then blame the past times for leaving moral cripples. The fast life told beauty to lie in the eyes of the beholder, with hearts so stone cold, insinuating the human heart become colder. In all, distressed damsels forsake true love for jilly jollying with lustful minds cause they mixit. Shunning the bread of life and giving Him a cold shoulder. The death of reason buried the truth in our hearts and cause our eyes not to see the light when it rose..."

If I may add again, what we normally think will bring us a satisfying end usually leaves us more empty. Therefore, I keep asking myself, why am I trying to live up to such standards that provide no end to my toiling? So since there's one undeniable fact about life is that at the end we're all dead. And at that point what matters the most is what you leave behind. Will my legacy be that of another passing soul without purpose or use? Just a lonely traveler only alive in fading memories. Or would it mean something to those I would leave behind? But even then every journey of self discovery starts with a single step, as we paint our mark in wider canvass which ahs a meaning far more important than our own. I too, am tempted to selfish at times, to think for number one, to think for the now,

But...

One day we will be old and we'll think about the stories we could have told.

Keep Thinking!
Sources: The Memoirs of Euclid, The Wordsmith