Everything is temporary.
Everything we spend time carefully building falls apart.
With time.
Our homes, our beds, ourselves.
There is no permanence.
Our idea of permanence is temporary.
It changes with age and understanding.
The realization is slowly revealed to us.
We are a family of melting snowmen.
Each part of us that was carefully crafted drips away.
Without regard or remorse.
We shrink in the sunlight, clinging to a cold core.
Wishing for winter nights to feed our souls.
Even if we sculpt a new exterior, we're gone.
Our essence absorbed into the ground.
Where we stay forever.
Or whatever forever means to us right now.
dm.
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