They say history repeats itself. In a few billion years, after the tectonic plates collide, the remnants of my physical being will be pushed down under the sea. Two billion years from now, those remains will be heated by the earths core, then madly spewed straight up to the upper atmosphere. I will rain down, trickling over the grassy meadows where sheep graze. My ashes mixed with condensed water will make the hills green. Will anyone be there besides the sheep? Will a flower bloom from my richness? Can we constantly live without a care of the complexity that brought us here? I always wanted to live forever. I want my soul imprinted and ingrained into everything I touch.
I face my mortality with the realization that once I am gone, I will be an occasional passing thought to the few people that love me. Once those people are gone, there is nothing more left of me. I hope a deep blue flower blooms from my richness.