We’re born, we live, we die. The grave is silent and time hasn’t stopped so far. Civilizations rise and fall, cultures flourish and then vanish a moment later. The reality of being an infinitesimal human in an infinite space forces us to strip existence to the reality of a moment… The shoddy justification of a false motive. The touch of cardboard. The application of more make-up on a day when you feel ugly. The irritation caused by a fogged window. Meeting a stranger’s eyes. Tasting something bitter. Sometimes this grand over-simplification is enough—carrying us from one moment to the next—minutes of programming that somehow sustain us over bridges of senseless advertising. And sometimes it isn’t enough.
How does it not all fall apart? The connections are so weak…the strands so thin. Somehow my chest keeps rising and falling in steady breath, and somehow the planet keeps turning. Where is the glue? How does it all hang together?
About Me
- anotherBrianna
- I'm a lover. I live in a studio apartment in ruggedly lovely Calhoun County, Alabama. I spend most of my time with people who share none of my convictions, but I love them wholeheartedly. Also I'm an actor. I attend Templo de Fe, and am trying desperately to learn Spanish. I love: making poitive change happen, and all things requiring creativity.
1 comment:
When glue dries, it's invisible.
I do not know what that was supposed to mean, but boyoboy it sounds kinda deep, eh?
hello, dear.
You know what holds everything together, tenuous as those holds may appear. "There's a divinity shapes our ends, rough-hew them though we may"-- don't forget that.
I think i will be checking in on you here every so often...whaddaya think?
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