There is one thing that I am most of afraid of--an incorrigible, irascible fear that lurks into my thoughts, an incubus that envelops my every whim--it's a fear of being forgotten, the fear of not having a name. Ah! But now you're probably wondering, well, this person sounds like John Proctor--"Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie and sign myself to lies! Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!"
Maybe so, but there is one thing I hope to achieve and that is when I come to my death bed, I don't want to be remembered as just another number, as just another cookie cutter mold, another human. There is more to life than that. It's just finding where all the pieces fit is the hard part.
So, what do I plan on doing here? No clue yet. Maybe one day an idea will spawn from some downright awesome epiphany. Or not. Such is life.
Mar 18
“ We each have a special something we can get only at a special time of our life. Like a small flame. A careful, fortunate few cherish that flame, nurture it, hold it as a torch to light their way. But once that flame goes out, it’s gone for ever.
—
The Sputnik Sweetheart - Haruki Murakami (via
kari-shma)
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