Thought Provokers [Pieces to Induce Pondering]

Humanity's Hope

There is no burning desire in man mightier than inherent wishing for eternal life. Has not each person at least once in their meager existence entertained the idea of burning their own commemoration on the vast sheet of history, in hopes of living somehow in even the faint embers of some loved one's memories?

 As distinct are the faces planted on earth, so are the guises such a desire wears. Whether a decrepit elder trying vainly to instill their sense of just morals into the younger generation or a youth dreaming of life frozen in the fast lane of undying fame, each individual has fancied the novel idea of living forever in some form or another.

Alas, not every person could absorb such a truth, even as self-evident as it has long been held firm in the record of humanity. Even the crook and self indulgent money miser long for the permanent day in reveling of their riches to regard beyond stretches of imagination. With no end in sight to their bountiful ways, how could they ever wish for something different? True no two people may appear alike in personality, conscious, or morality, but all have surmised over the possibility of evading their demise.

Consider death; so blatantly cold, impersonal and so frighteningly unknown to humanity. Every man's failure lays in the inability to grasp solid the image of death. The notion of one's most valuable life coming to the delicate edge of existing and the dark abyss that rests beyond is almost enough to drive one into utter madness. So for him to pursue life everlasting, the great spite towards death is how man shall futilely pursue eternal living amidst the earth.

The great mystery that humanity has yet to grasp taunts each person with a muted whisper. The words dancing from the grave's tongue reach ears in a harsh language foreign to the living; never to be translated until all have expired. In dimmed clarity it is man's blithe partaking to chase after specters of perpetual existence while so casting somnolent glances towards death's door.

Those though, who have so desperately cried out for that soothing cold touch to escort them out of this life, tremble at the thought of having not made their mark in any visible or tangible form. Even they that claim life as simply too much to bear, secretly carry an innate desire to leave their personal stamp in history prior to their last breath exiting their deadened lips.

For how can man measure himself but to what he has done for this world? For whom he has reached out to and inspired? Whom he has conquered and destroyed? Whom he has loved and lost? Where he has lived and left?

Humanity has no other uniform longing than for each to situate himself in any sliver of space into the incredibly immense book of remembrance. And from this stems his strongest desire to hopelessly live out this life eternally.