To leave sounds like to die.
To be gone means to live through the eye of a memory.
When you leave a place that has been like your home for a while, all you left behind is all the people there will remind about you. Memories are the elements by which a man is built of, what you leave about yourself to the others is what make you what you are, more than every possible truth everywhere...
Fragments of memories that slowly build a personality, that slowly build an history, knowing all of this pieces of reality is like knowing ourselves better, like we'd never been able to do in any other way.
But if no one is there, where a soul is supposed to burn?
No one there
No one there
No one has never been...
To be gone means to live through the eye of a memory.
When you leave a place that has been like your home for a while, all you left behind is all the people there will remind about you. Memories are the elements by which a man is built of, what you leave about yourself to the others is what make you what you are, more than every possible truth everywhere...
Fragments of memories that slowly build a personality, that slowly build an history, knowing all of this pieces of reality is like knowing ourselves better, like we'd never been able to do in any other way.
But if no one is there, where a soul is supposed to burn?
No one there
No one there
No one has never been...
1 commento:
"Fragments of memories that slowly build a personality, that slowly build an history, knowing all of this pieces of reality is like knowing ourselves better, like we'd never been able to do in any other way."
Man, you're so fucking right!
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