Life is just a series of tiny moments. Unique little, fleeting “nows”… that happen in the moment, before we realise it happened. At an attempt to understand the now, to determine what the now even is, takes us away from it, and to a new experience. A new now, spent on analysing a now that has already passed. For to spend time analysing the moment, you cannot be in it.
The adventure doesn’t have to be good, to be worth having. More often than not you pick up a book
A blank canvas. With the material equivalent spread on new walls all around you, you are boundless. You could write,
All it takes is a great reader, a great speaker – a great writer – to challenge the absolute core
Suppose that in ten million years, humanity has been long wiped off the face of the planet. Some life still remains, but it has regressed to a more primitive state, due to some cataclysmic event, caused by our own iniquity, or some element of chance.
No animal that could understand the basics of calculus has existed on the rock called Earth for a very long time.
When one day, entirely by chance, our no longer blue planet is discovered, by some nomadic civilisation …
“You are never too important, to not be kind.”
In the words of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, “The small details, are by far the most important.”
Your memory is the rationality, by which your reason is based upon.