The Coming Decay…. Becoming….

The coming decay.... becoming....
The coming decay…. becoming….

I looked at this and I saw so many things… I could feel the desolation, the abandonment of this place, these things. Yet, here I stood, caught by these shapes of decay, the scent of dust and musty decay heavy in my nostrils. There are some pangs hidden deep inside, in a place I think we all try to keep from ourselves, that one day I will be like this… unrecognizable as what I once was, mouldering in my existence, unable to stop the degeneration that comes, in one way or another, to us all. If I take a moment, I already know this to be true, and my thought and eye turns briefly toward the Sun, sometimes my nemesis but generally necessary for my continued existence, and I ruminate that once I was there, churning in fires hotter than any hell ever imagined, roaring with a life I can barely comprehend now… There I once was, and now I am here, a degenerate human, spawned and grown to what I am on this chunk of detritus, spun off by the Sun that no longer needed either us…. And in my “degeneration,” in my fall from the graces of the burning fires of the mother star, I have come to be this, aware, and fantastic, full of ideas, questions, and possibilities. Full of possibilities.

And so as I decay, so I become, different, yes, but ever changing, becoming beauty and horror, life and death, before and after, awash in the possibilities of being, even in decay… I wonder if the Sun misses us, or perhaps the Sun thinks no more of us than we do of defecation, and perhaps to think of the Sun as thinking in any way that our small minds might comprehend is the ultimate folly of this decaying mind. I shall let my thoughts moulder elsewhere for now…..

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