Life's Vain; That's Why It's Beautiful
A crow squawked loudly from somewhere in a tree to my right. A cat hissed, warning off potential opponents.
Saw a bird . Saw the might with which it flew. Saw the splendor of it's wings, the gracefulness of it's flight. Saw the grandeur of it's fall. Saw it lie lifeless and cold. The luster of it's wings long gone. The might of it's flight long lost. A body. Cold and pale. Hard and gloomy.
Looked up. Saw the sky. Nothing changed. The earth didn't shake. The cloud's didn't waver. The crow kept squawking. The cat hissed again.
Closed my eyes.
The desire of life doesn't define me, but neither does the fear of death.— Elliana Wright
Today I realized how fragile life really is. How delicate. How easily damaged. I realized how easy it is to consider yourself the mightiest being in the universe. How easy it is to feel all powerful.
Perhaps man doesn't have a choice. Perhaps it's the way we are built. Ingrained within our very existence; a feeling of superiority. But how can we be superior?
Doesn't everything in the universe feel the same way?
When a lion leaves to hunt, he considers himself the fiercest animal in the jungle. When he sees a rifle he runs. Runs the way everyone does. Man or beast. Everyone fears death.
The hawk that soars high above the clouds.
Why is it not his right to feel as if he owns the world? A creature of the sky and the wind. Far above us. Far beyond our reach. Should he not be on the top of the food chain?
The question I asked myself; was how man can be the most superior being in the universe. When all it takes to kill you is a spike in the pressure of your blood.
We're slaves to the beating of our heart, to the flow of our blood. A slight change and we're dead. Mighty kings, and great conquerors. All reduced to dust and bones.
It's easy to consider yourselves superior. Indestructible. When in reality, you are nothing but specks of dust in a massive system. Accept this. And you are strong.— Elliana Wright
Sometimes life is downright cruel. Sometimes it's the gaping hole in your chest, that keeps you from breaking apart. Sometimes it's the pain that reminds you of existence. Sometimes you love the things you hate most. Sometimes you have to lose something to recognize it's worth.
Sitting here today; writing this, I realized how helpless man really is. How easy it is to end life. How easy to lie. How easy to be forgotten. How easy to never be recognized.
Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it.— Haruki Murakami
A lot of problems in our life come from the feeling of superiority we hold in us. We believe we're so good, nobody else matters. We believe we're perfect.
One of mankind's greatest shortcomings. Perhaps the biggest one of them all. But, tell me; And be fair about it. Is having forever to live, is knowing you have no end, is having all the time in the world; really that great a feat? Doesn't the word eternity strike fear somewhere deep within you? Isn't forever a lonely word? Doesn't immortality make life lose it's meaning? It's beauty. What's so special about you?
You were here forever, and forevermore you will be.
Ever existing yet unimportant. Meaningless.
Like the sun; which gives life everyday without break. Yet, it's normal. Nothing magnificent about a giant ball of gases you owe you're very existence to.
Now do you see?
Do you see how big a favor death does you? How generous it really is. Death gives life purpose. Death gives it meaning. Death defines us. Death creates us. Our mortality is our greatest strength. And, arrogance from this very fact;our greatest weakness.
© 2019 EllianaWright