We write things down to preserve them. When we were children, we sat in the back seat looking out the window as scenes passed swiftly and perpetually past and behind us. It is not until we are older that we realize that our lives are like that, not just the outer pageant that fades away and leaves not a wrack behind, but also the inward pulse of feeling, the memory that suddenly leaps like a fish above the waterline and is gone, the insight or intuition that streaks like a sudden meteor across the dark and is forgotten like last night’s dream. It is perhaps the realization of transience that makes some people decide to become writers.
July 16, 2021
July 16, 2021
July 16, 2021
We write things down to preserve them. When we were children, we sat in the back seat looking out the window as scenes passed swiftly and perpetually past and behind us. It is not until we are older that we realize that our lives are like that, not just the outer pageant that fades away and leaves not a wrack behind, but also the inward pulse of feeling, the memory that suddenly leaps like a fish above the waterline and is gone, the insight or intuition that streaks like a sudden meteor across the dark and is forgotten like last night’s dream. It is perhaps the realization of transience that makes some people decide to become writers.