As survivors and procreators, we unravel stories that at their root are not dissimilar from the habitual behaviors seen in nature. But as beings who know they will die we digress into episodes and epics that are altogether dissociated from the natural world. We may isolate this awareness, distract ourselves from it, anchor our minds far from its shores, and sublimate it as a motif in our sagas. Yet at no time and in no place are we protected from being tapped on the shoulder and reminded, __ou__e going to die, you know._ However much we try to ignore it, our consciousness haunts us with this knowledge. Our heads were baptized in the font of death; they are doused with the horror of moribundity.
When we die, our bodies turn to dust,_ he says. __f you were nobody of consequence, you're forgotten unless you do something worth remembering._ When he looks my way, I purse my lips and look down. __therwise, you're just another place marker in the ground. These buildings will rot here, their bodies are above the ground taunting us with what we did wrong as a people. Reminding us of the evil we're capable of. They are constant.
Skye
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When we die, our bodies turn to dust,_ he says. __f you were nobody of consequence, you're forgotten unless you do something worth remembering._ When he looks my way, I purse my lips and look down. __therwise, you're just another place marker in the ground. These buildings will rot here, their bodies are above the ground taunting us with what we did wrong as a people. Reminding us of the evil we're capable of. They are constant.
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I was struck by an awful thought, the kind that cannot be taken back once it escapes into the open air of consciousness; it seemed to me that this was not a place you go to live. It was a place you go to die.
I think, actually I know that it's overwhelmingly possible for men to conduct such atrocities as to kill a man in cold blood, to burn towns and to parade with the the dead on the tips of their swords. People who think they are doing something for the good of all are the most dangerous and stirs their intent deeper. There might have been a time when I thought differently and I would have answered with a quick no but that time had long passed. Do I think it's in human nature to be violent and to succumb to it? Sure I do. It's to justify it, that I think is inhuman.
Evil won__ leave you alone until you take a stand or until you__e dead.
Cold comradeship do stars provide.They light the closer, inner sideOf night's vast weight, which, chill and clear,Pulls on us like some puppeteer.Its unseen threads to heads and heartsAttached, it acts us through our parts,From birth's first cry to bent old age,Upon our distant, tiny stage.
There is no shortage of fault to be found amidst our stars.