And Then Everything Will Be Dust
Metadata
Highlights
- But I knew deep down that everything I could possibly create will disappear. We were made from cosmic dust, and to it we will return. You see, we were all together during the Big Bang and we’ve been trying to return to each other ever since. We just miss each other. (View Highlight)
- Nothing I do will matter or last.
Yet I wonder what’s inside a black hole. How the rain feels in Brooklyn on a summer night. What color the sky will be at sunset, and how the light will feel on my face. The shape of water as it trails behind my brushing fingertips. What texture my calligraphy strokes will take on today.
Yet I live earnestly, building the most beautiful sandcastles I can, knowing they will be washed away. And getting others on the beach to build with me, at times even suspending our belief of the fact that it will disappear; letting ourselves be fooled for a moment that it will last. (View Highlight)
- “If this moment was all there was, would you be okay with that?” I spontaneously ask myself this these days, and more and more the answer comes back a yes. Not a prerecorded yes like reading something from a database, but a resounding yes that sounds when you strike a drum from deep within. I’m gazing deeply into reality, and letting it know I’m here for it. Offering it flowers. Letting it take my hand to drag me in, until I fall infinitely far and I’m not anywhere, only in transition. In being. (View Highlight)
title: “And Then Everything Will Be Dust”
author: “Carmen”
url: ”https://altered.substack.com/p/dust”
date: 2023-12-19
source: reader
tags: media/articles
And Then Everything Will Be Dust
Metadata
Highlights
- But I knew deep down that everything I could possibly create will disappear. We were made from cosmic dust, and to it we will return. You see, we were all together during the Big Bang and we’ve been trying to return to each other ever since. We just miss each other. (View Highlight)
- Nothing I do will matter or last.
Yet I wonder what’s inside a black hole. How the rain feels in Brooklyn on a summer night. What color the sky will be at sunset, and how the light will feel on my face. The shape of water as it trails behind my brushing fingertips. What texture my calligraphy strokes will take on today.
Yet I live earnestly, building the most beautiful sandcastles I can, knowing they will be washed away. And getting others on the beach to build with me, at times even suspending our belief of the fact that it will disappear; letting ourselves be fooled for a moment that it will last. (View Highlight)
- “If this moment was all there was, would you be okay with that?” I spontaneously ask myself this these days, and more and more the answer comes back a yes. Not a prerecorded yes like reading something from a database, but a resounding yes that sounds when you strike a drum from deep within. I’m gazing deeply into reality, and letting it know I’m here for it. Offering it flowers. Letting it take my hand to drag me in, until I fall infinitely far and I’m not anywhere, only in transition. In being. (View Highlight)