These hard times

Morning falls like rain into the city lights
There goes another night.



--



so I have this theory


You know there's this thing called the circle of life right? We lose people to the beyond, but at the same moment, someone is being introduced to life. It goes on and on and on, never ending, so there's always a sort of stability to the amount of people that are on earth. and even though we will cry when someone they love dies, even though we will ache and we will long for the feel of their skin again, that person will never come back. Of course they will always be alive in our minds, like some character in a book, but that's all there is. Nothing solid. We are all but stories in the end.



So that's that. But with everything else, it's a different story. When you write a book, or a song, or paint something amazing, it lives forever. It never dies, it is just rediscovered over and over again. When I imagine the number of books I haven't read, or the amount of songs that I didn't know existed, my head spins. But they are there. And the number will just grow and grow and grow, and history will just accumulate, stories stacking on top of one another.



Some people say that the world will end in fire, some say in ice. But I think that the world will end when it just cant withstand the amount of words and thoughts and voices anymore. One day when a music store is as big as house and the workers are wondering where to stick the new stock of CDs, everything will just collapse under the weight of itself.





we are all but stories in the end