“In a sense, we are all crashing to our death from the top story of our birth to the flat stones of the churchyard and wondering with an immortal Alice in Wonderland at the patterns of the passing wall. This capacity to wonder at the trifles–no matter the imminent peril–these asides of the spirit, these footnotes in the volume of life are the highest forms of consciousness.” -Vladimir Nabokov.

    From birth we start the countdown to our death. We never known when the “flat stones” are coming, but we know it’s inevitable. While we “pass the wall,” or go throughout our lives, we must “wonder at the trifles,” otherwise it will all be a blur when we reach the end. As a writer, this quote is the same. We start out young, vulnerable, and dying. We become immortal through our work; when the physical being is gone, our words live on. When we go through life our writing evolves with us. So, once we reach the end we will be at the highest level of consciousness, so to speak, and that spirit will be immortal.


One thought on “Immortality”

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