Running in circles. Weathering the storms. Facing the elements and cycles. Upheaval. Bloom. Upheaval. Bloom.
As the ground melts beneath me, I am weary, and grateful for release. I've travelled far, further than I thought able. I've seen others go, and yet I remain. Beaten and broken by wind and rain and eaten-up by the creatures of this Earth; I stand as a testament to my internal strength - I made it. Beyond all odds, and in the face of the solemn nature of my temporary existence - I made it.
But ultimately, I too shall yield; no matter my ambition and in spite of my stubbornness. All fall. It is expected, and demanded, and determined. There is so much time left for life, but not mine. I've surpassed all obstacles and cheated death, but he still follows, unrelenting, unbending.
When it's time, I am a leaf on the branch of my family tree. What builds me survives in this world but not I.
And why do I fear nothingness? I will feel no pain after death. I will have no thoughts. I will be no-where. If this is true, there is nothing to fear. I have been good too. So, if there be afterlife, I will live again. And there's nothing to fear.
To finish my works, my life works, the satisfaction of my aspirations and what I know to be true of what I am and can be, this is my concern. Achievement before death. Experience before releasing my soul into the abyss.
To decide to live, and live fully, and then die, that is courage, and that is freedom.
- Shutter
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