| In the face of the end of our terrestrial existence, all of us are nothing more than drops of water returning to their source. We all find ourselves placed in the same boat, crowded and accomplices of the same emotions. There is no room for old, and now useless, convictions, much less for the conception of possession of something for which we position ourselves on a pedestal higher than the others. After our entire existence, every one of our past actions and our every object in our possession, ends and is lost with us. We often think we are what we possess, we evaluate our value based on our class or the objects we have, and actually in this society, unconsciously retrograde, it is so but before death, before the end of life, we are nothing more than molecules of dust that are lost in the air. Perhaps, if there were no tombstones, we would be nothing more than memories locked in the meanders of other people's brains. |