the dead are,,

are just that dead, they don’t turn into ghost haunting you, and they don’t live through us in our hearts. Their memory fades no matter how hard u want to believe otherwise.

Those who once were among us, have left living their foot prints on moving grounds, are to be erased by a change of wind, or dried up by the sun. They leave us with memories we try to hold on too, either by our own weak memories or with recordings. Those never will suffice and the more you dwell on them the less they become.

Hoping you’d pass them in a crowd, or catch a glimpse of them won’t ever happen. Dreaming of them is your mind tricking u in to coping and rationalizing it.

Danny is dead, what’s wrong with grey’s anatomy!

The wise one says
‘a life lived in stress, is a short and exhausted’

Too short to be a building?

The way building disintegrate with time, so do we. What happens if those crumbled bricks are never replaced with new ones, is our demise in reach. With every moment passing we get ahead in this marathon, but do we really want to arrive at the finishing line.

What happens if you don’t realize your crumbling until you are down to dust, have you inspired many by your grand statue, have you brought glory to your creators name, or have you stood in the gray shades of the city.

Make every floor counts don’t skip the 13th for some superstition you might hold, raise higher out of the shade, and cast your shade on all others. Rise as high as wish as you now your collapse is due anytime.

Dress up in greens and blues even pink and oranges whatever suits you, it’s your time not any ones borrowed time your not obliged to please others. Have no windows or be all windows, rotate or change colors, be on water or land, be whatever you want as time is too short to oblige anyone else.

Not every building will not topple as the Pisa tower, and so little will endure time a the Eiffel tower, but many will sink like Atlantis or end up as the ruins of Rome. If your demise is unavoidable make it count, leave your name in the history books, or in any story. Leave your trace even if it was a half bent beam or torched wooden floor.

The wise one says
“Today I rise, tomorrow I’m high”