I was listening to a neighbour yelling at her young daughter, late the other night. It wasn’t pleasant. The complex we are staying in has only been open since last October and as I lay there I wondered what stories the walls could already tell? What echoes and imprints already remain? How many stories will the walls hear, how many lives will they see, over how many years before the building ends it’s own life disused. abandoned and is turned into a parking lot?
All of the people, all over the world, living their lives. Loving and dreaming and fighting and longing. Wanting and waiting and wasting. What is it we leave behind when we are gone? What matters at the end of the day?
This too shall pass. Carpe diem.