Traces Of Self

As of right now, my existence is solely dependant on me and nothing else. In these 16 years of life, I didn’t leave any significant work behind. No trace of my philosophy, my hellishly small and petty troubles, my train of thought which lead me to living this very specific life. Good news is that I have a lot of time ahead of me. And when I say ‘’a lot’’ I mean an overwhelming amount of time waiting to unveil the secrets of future which only The God and time itself are aware of.

It is no surprise that humans tried to leave parts of themselves behind to be remembered and lived upon. Leaving materials is a tradition old as life. You can leave children, money, assets, books, scientific information… But what happens when the only things worth leaving behind are thoughts, beliefs and honest feelings you lived through passionately? That’s when we start to get desperate. One person, out of billions, has felt what you are feeling. Has cried over an issue as minor as yours. We may experience life and this world differently. But as you dig deeper, you see that we are not that far away from each other. Maybe by means of time and distance we are. Yet we are all humans. In these given conditions, the best we could do is lend parts of ourselves to future. That way we can make sure that the future folks feel less alone. This is a way of looking after the next generations as we are all wired to  each other in some spiritual way.

No one lives for another human being knowingly. But in the end, there is nothing else left to do. Your existence must serve a purpose , even if you like it or not. I like to believe that no one is truly forgotten. We affect the universe is such unusual ways that we can’t comprehend our worth while performing the action of ‘’living’’ actively every single day.

Not only we make sure we are not forgotten but also produce artificial and mostly personal ‘’heritages’’ trapped in small moments and filled with emotions of that remembered time. This often shows itself in the form of literature and music. Just as the writer would have wanted, a simple sentence or a song can take you back to your personal depths. You may have changed but the memories you formed just stood in silence, waiting to replay when you are inevitably taken back to them without your consent.

It really is a simple biological act. No one wants to completely wither away. Without my inner self, I am just composed of carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, calcium,hydrogen and phosphorus. Even that is magic in my eyes, but the fact that I get to lead this body using my ethical senses and irrational fear of getting forgotten takes it to the next level. If there is one thing I’m sure about, it’s that most of us feel this in our veins. When Sappho said:

‘’I declare

That later on,

Even in an age unlike our own,

Someone will remember who we are.’’

Or

‘’ You may forget but

Let me tell you this:

Someone in

Some future time

Will think of us.’’

Wasn’t it just optimistic cries of a woman wanting her voice to be heard even after centuries?

 

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