One day, everything I’ve ever written will no longer be read.
…Everything I’ve ever recorded will no longer be watched.
…Everything I’ve ever said and done will be forgotten.
…Everyone I’ve ever loved and cared for will be gone.
And yet.
I still choose to keep on writing.
…To keep on recording and sharing things.
…To keep on saying and doing things.
…To keep on loving and caring and building and creating.
Because the point isn’t to leave something behind that people will always remember me by after I’m gone.
The point is to leave everything behind. To exhaust this temporary experience with every ounce of life force I have. To hold on to nothing and give all that’s inside to the collective in some small way or form.
Living for some legacy we won’t be there to feel?
…Or living to feel?
…And letting legacy do what it will as we leave our experience naked and empty-handed, yet content and full.